[Chorus]
They gon’ talk a lot, let ‘em stir the pot until it blows
Bitch I been prepared, when them tempers flare I lose control
Man I swear to god, and I swear to god I ain’t no hoe
We don’t play no games, bitch, I play for keeps I’m taking souls
Split your shish kabob, load the Glock go bang and leave a hole
In your fucking dome, I don’t fucking know, I crack your skull
Keep it on the low, I be making bread I’m making dough
My accountant knows, we be counting M’s, I’m counting O’s

[Verse 1]
O’s, the life I chose, I been in my bag, been in my zone
So tell them hoes, it’s time to go that case is closed
Baby adios, let shorty know my heart is cold now
Leave the bitch so quick
Hеr head was spinning Merry-go-round
I got to slow down, but don’t know how, I’m so wild
My-My trigger fingеr itchin’, like a bitch I put a full round
Into your dome you’re six below down, in the cold ground
Father please forgive me ‘fore I knew not what I know now
This is America, 2nd amendment’ll bury ya
Barrett fifty cal, or Derringer
Causing hysteria, in a whole lot of areas
There ain’t a whole lot of variance
When it comes to my arrogance, don’t got a care in the world
Man, so long as I’m fucking a beautiful girl
Then I’m very gregarious, turn on the news it’s hilarious
Give a fuck about your problem dog
Them pussy bitches need some Tylenol, not when I’m involved
My music’s spreading like a violent cough
No I don’t give a fuck if you ain’t like this
Regret to say I’m here to stay, so it’s a crisis
[Chorus]
They gon’ talk a lot, let ‘em stir the pot until it blows
Bitch I been prepared, when them tempers flare I lose control
Man I swear to god, and I swear to god I ain’t no hoe
We don’t play no games, bitch, I play for keeps I’m taking souls
Split your shish kabob, load the Glock go bang and leave a hole
In your fucking dome, I don’t fucking know, I crack your skull
Keep it on the low, I be making bread I’m making dough
My accountant knows, we be counting M’s, I’m counting O’s

[Verse 2]
I’m bad to the bone
Bow to the king, back on my throne
Countin’ them chips, stackin’ up dough, lil bitch
I’m always gon’ be at your throat, lil bitch
Never was supposed to count, the poster child of rap
As I hold the crown, you motherfuckers ain’t close
Better close your mouth, and mosey out
Before I gotta hose you down with the holy water
Oughta, get slaughtered and go to father
Obi-Wan, It’s only gonna grow me stronger
Full Nirvana, told the Shaman
That all life is cheap like a bowl of ramen
Falsify, I talk in lies
You’re never cuttin’ off the line of raw supply
I always been an awful guy, I cross the line
A hypocrite, often times the loss of lives is imminent
But then again, it really doesn’t matter in the end
I give a fuck how many people, go and rally up your men
I’ll get to shatterin’ and batterin’ and splatterin’
Cause ain’t nobody fucking with our level
And this caliber of pen
[Chorus]
They gon’ talk a lot, let ‘em stir the pot until it blows
Bitch I been prepared, when them tempers flare I lose control
Man I swear to god, and I swear to god I ain’t no hoe
We don’t play no games, bitch, I play for keeps I’m taking souls
Split your shish kabob, load the Glock go bang and leave a hole
In your fucking dome, I don’t fucking know, I crack your skull
Keep it on the low, I be making bread I’m making dough
My accountant knows, we be counting M’s, I’m counting O’s