Intro:
What, what! Y'all scared. OK!

Verse 1:
We got shows reserved,
I speak with a force like spoke word,
While I'm chokin' herb.
The heavy black skillet,
Cook up beef until I stack like Illage,
Mike. You don't wanna test my sales,
I'm on a rampage, when you act chill I deal.
Snakes send text threats to my cell.
Fuck 'em, I reply back L-O-L.
I give blunt c-sections, twist green,
Get drunk all night and act sixteen.
Livin' like there's no tomorrow,
Happy I no longer have to owe and borrow,
It's bizarre though, cats act funny
When a brotha get a minute piece of rap money.
If that lil' check got dudes upset,
You gonna be real sick when I do my set,
Mah'fuckas!

Chorus:
Y'ALL SCARED!
BE AWARE! (Yikes!)
THE BOOGIE-MAN'S HERE!
Y'ALL SCARED!(Yikes!)

Verse 2:
Yeah, alright,
I'll make your side bleed.
I'll get you hurt,
I move with more jerks than a five-speed.
Rollin, pockets bulgin'.
Cops roll blocks can't stop the chosen, (Nah)
Bars stay hot but the rocks are frozen. (Yep)
Cats hate me for the spot I'm holdin', Fuck 'em.
They wanna put holes in the top cat,
And pop big shit till they get popped at.
This is NOT rap. It's warnin',
Green-card wack emcees who talk foreign.
And leave bars, never cross paths with us.
The chain is out but the mag is tucked.
Dirty hoes wanna take baths with us.
Let me cum in her throat then drop the soap,
These punchlines are not for jokes.
I puff that green shit, Rasta smoke,
And y'all scared!

Thanks to Bakari Kamau