| It’s like I got the 4−4 cocked |
| On the block in it, two door dropped |
| And my spot is keeping but hot |
| The pussy-ass cop throw some murder in the lot |
| My nigga got popped |
| With a bullet that was meant for me |
| The adapt by T’s and B’s and the regencies |
| Fuck what the reason be, I’ma start squeezing these |
| Them niggas ain’t G’s, they wanna be thugs |
| And it ain’t shit to slang these motherfucking slugs |
| The fools ain’t plugged, plus ain’t no hoes over here |
| I done dropped more dead bodies than tears |
| Brought to life momma’s worst fears |
| Pictures of a son dying from that hot ones flying |
| Baby mama’s crying at the funeral |
| 'Cause the magnum lit him like a Black & Mild |
| When I rolled out on his ass on the solo |
| I caught him up on mo mo cooking up co-co |
| I got to tip on the low-low |
| Busted in like po po taking lives with the, oh no |
| It’s a 4−4, mini-missile with a silencer for the whistle |
| My favorite pistol 'cause when I let that bitch ride |
| I know the homicide is being carried out in official |
| Niggas steady bumping gums but don’t want none |
| Because of these hot ones that explode on contact |
| A manic that’s prepared to die in combat |
| Besides all that a 4−4 keeps me laced |
| Don’t be petty to say |
| I can see the fear in your face |
| As I reach my waist for this warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−4 |
| But when I pick it up, I don’t wanna let it go |
| Because a nigga straight loving your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−5 |
| But when I pick it up, I don’t wanna let it ride |
| But still I bust 'cause I survive from your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the nine-mill |
| And when I pick it up, I don’t really wanna kill |
| But still I bust because I’m needing your warm embrace |
| All you motherfuckers better duck and hide |
| Before I let it ride, the sucker stepped aside |
| Still I bust because I’m loving your warm embrace |
| I love the element of surprise when I’m taking these hoes lives |
| With my customized 4−5 |
| Get enough ammunition to knock off you |
| Your crew and some more guys |
| You motherfuckers better get wise |
| Make sure your first shot is sweet, trying to kill the elite |
| 'Cause you ain’t getting no more tries |
| Hate to make a Nubian mother weep but fuck it |
| Long as I don’t hear the hoe cry |
| Split a beam between his eyes and make that bitch nigga so wise |
| No matter what the size of the warm embrace of my 45 |
| Make sure the nigga crossed dies |
| You don’t wanna throw them thangs |
| 'Cause when I cocked and aim it’s time to think in a split second time |
| But Mayz ain’t new to the game |
| I use the spark when the shots light up this tunnel of crime |
| But niggas get bucked for dime and it’s like you’re a magnet for sin |
| Punk pretend to be your friend 'til they get close enough to your ends |
| To do you in, that shit puts me on ten |
| And make me wanna put the barrel of this solid fiend |
| Upon under that nigga’s chin, plus he talking big shit about war |
| Like he don’t know my Speedknot Mob gon' win |
| But I dare one of you niggas to say my name |
| 'Cause I put a fucking bullet into your closest kin |
| Just to get under your skin like a dirty syringe |
| Plus I know you can’t win with a gun or a pen |
| So when you see Mayz come in the place you better say your grace |
| Before I fuck up your face like a can of mace |
| Before I get disgraced, I’ma catch a case |
| Maybe you hoes fear the wrath of my warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−4 |
| But when I pick it up, I don’t wanna let it go |
| Because a nigga straight loving your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−5 |
| But when I pick it up, I don’t wanna let it ride |
| But still I bust 'cause I survive from your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the nine-mill |
| And when I pick it up, I don’t really wanna kill |
| But still I bust because I’m needing' your warm embrace |
| All you motherfuckers better duck and hide |
| Before I let it ride, the sucker stepped aside |
| Still I bust because I’m loving' your warm embrace |
| With you my passion, Nina squeeze off seventeen, for sure |
| Hold you ever so tightly, I love you Nina and never wanna let you go |
| Miss Millimeter’s making a mockery of motherfuckers gotta be ruckus |
| When I get my clutches upon this hoe |
| Itching to let the barrel blow |
| Like a sparrow, how it flow, like an arrow, Geronimo |
| Spit 'em up and swallow slow |
| I reload, clipping' your ass crack, you constantly blast back |
| Payback from flashback, some bitches know |
| Bust 'til I see the chrome from the intro |
| You was fucked from the phasing, deep with the cuts and abrasion |
| Erupts and amazing, nigga, my Nina bucked |
| Fuck the gazing and enemies get tore up from the blazing |
| Fool you be burning them with your black ass |
| Murderous hips, hurting the grips, ride on personal list |
| Deposition die for serving them six |
| Everyone of 'em with a hit but some are missing of a jerk to the kick |
| 'Cause I be working my bitch |
| Trying to pimp her but she a wild and a tame thang |
| Kick a static on when she gang bang, blast in the fullest moon |
| Niggas better pull it soon or else suffer hellafied bullet wounds |
| And even though I stay clubbed with some thugs, why call 'em stug? |
| When it comes to her love, it’s none above she drawing blood |
| Static under the bra 'cause every time I take a hit at the bud |
| And give you a hug you gon' pop up a slug |
| Drinking Remy on the block, gotta bust the glock |
| When the Henny hit the chest, busting Smith & Wess |
| Fuck the discussion, I’m busting 'em all, clutching my balls |
| If I see y’all be laid to rest, let me hit the sess |
| Loose revolver used to be a problem solver |
| But the Nina made me a baller |
| No strap could take the place of the black nine |
| Leave 'em flat lines, feeling fury, you was born to taste |
| From my warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−4 |
| But when I pick it up, I don’t wanna let it go |
| Because a nigga straight loving your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−5 |
| But when I pick it up, I don’t wanna let it ride |
| But still I bust 'cause I survive from your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the nine-mill |
| And when I pick it up, I don’t really wanna kill |
| But still I bust because I’m needing your warm embrace |
| All you motherfuckers better duck and hide |
| Before I let it ride, the sucker stepped aside |
| Still I bust because I’m loving' your warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−4, 4−4, 4−4 |
| Warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the 4−5, 4−5, 4−5 |
| Warm embrace |
| I got plenty love for the nine-mill, nine-mill |
| (Nine-mill) |