| My name is the Scarecrow
|
| Busters they approach, they really don’t know me too well
|
| I put in the 50 round magazine watchin' them spin as I empty the shells
|
| Bodies are smackin the mud, bustas are constantly donating blood
|
| I pull the sawed off out my coat pump it twice and watch each tear 'em up n' run
|
| Oh no we do not mind my part in genocide
|
| Oh no we do not mind committing homicide
|
| Although the way you live is how you must die
|
| The Scarecrow will try his best to take your life cause I know you will try to
|
| take mine
|
| I do onto others before they do onto me
|
| And my fingers refuse to release when I’m squeezin' the trigger on nina milli
|
| Cause suckers be trying to take all the things you been working so hard for
|
| But I can’t hit the floor, I would rather go out in the smoke
|
| And so I’ll do what I’ll have to do
|
| I don’t want to kill you yet I will fool
|
| Before Lord Infamous take a fall I’ll spray all of y’all
|
| Aww mane, they got my back against the wall
|
| Ohh, that’s how it is in the ghetto
|
| (I got my back against the wall, wall, wall)
|
| All the player haters and jealousy in the ghetto
|
| Childrens crying, homies dying
|
| (I got my back against the wall, wall, wall)
|
| It’s how it is in the ghetto
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| A quarter after twelve, I’m still cruising down them back streets
|
| On my job a dead body already lies on the passenger seat
|
| Just did one for the money now I’ll do two for the show and
|
| When I drop the third body I’m gettin' ready to hit the road
|
| I’m spendin' bloody money in the streets, cause that’s all that I got From ones
|
| I’ve laid in the past and the new heads I just cracked
|
| But all had to go sour when some fools tried to rush
|
| The tables turning before my eyes, now it’s me they trying to touch
|
| I put the pedal to the mizzetal, strap my fo fifty five my seventy two
|
| I looked up in the rear view — they still comin', them fools must got one too
|
| Comin' up on the side, it’s on, I feel they can’t be real
|
| The dead body I was transporting fell on my lap, I’m liftin' it up,
|
| they getting my steel
|
| They started lettin 'em off, I tried to ram 'em the telephone post on the
|
| sidewalk
|
| I got intentions to (?), I laughed as them fools take a fall
|
| Not even no my roster for the day but my back was against da wall
|
| Ohh, that’s how it is in the ghetto
|
| (I got my back against the wall, wall, wall)
|
| When a gun is to your head there’s nothing left to be said in the ghetto
|
| You better watch your back cause you might get car jacked
|
| (I got my back against the wall, wall, wall)
|
| That’s how it is in the ghetto
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| Pop pop pop, another trick sucka dropped
|
| I’m that fool you don’t know, I’m that one you can’t see
|
| That’ll be scopin' with that gat infrared behind the trees
|
| You gon drop to your knees, you gon' yell «Brother please!»
|
| All the police on your force gon' be scared to witness me
|
| When you see me in the traffic psychopathic killer addict
|
| Kidnappin' MPD’s, choppin' heads off with the hatchet
|
| Throwin 'em in a rotty ditch while the night is filled with mist
|
| Mystic styles 'bout the killers from the six double six
|
| In the alley’s not a bum, just a gang creepin' low
|
| Fourty four is the tool, pluggin hoes in the 'fro
|
| Break the law on a slaw cop cause I’m down to blast
|
| Paul and Infamous scrapped with the nine in they lap, plus the stash
|
| Crunchy black at the hideout, smokin' quarter pounds
|
| (Smothered by the weed bomb)
|
| First contestants fallin' down, flag covered up over the casket
|
| Bitch we leavin' a dead cop surrender, no cousin, no friend, no son
|
| Sooner or later, no matter your crews gon' drop
|
| Ohh, that’s how it is in the ghetto
|
| (I got my back against the wall, wall, wall)
|
| Mothers crying cause their babies are dying in the ghetto
|
| One time — some are straight, some from the tek
|
| Ohh, in the ghetto yeah
|
| Yeah best believe it, Three 6 Mafia in the house for the nine five
|
| With the all new GimiSum Family, bring it to your door fool
|
| Till it just don’t pay no mo'
|
| We out |