Lyrics:

Crikey!
So Solid.
Oxide, G-man, Lisa Maffia, MAC.
Crikey!
-whispers-
(Why ya wanna know, if it was me?
What ya gonna do, if it was me?)
To my niggaz, kinda figures,
With their fingers, on the triggers.
To my niggaz, kinda figures,
With their fingers, on the triggers.
To my niggaz, kinda figures,
With their fingers, on the triggers.
To my niggaz, kinda figures,
With their fingers, on the triggers.
-whispers end-
Yo I'm spittin', if it ain't said then it's written,
I fight my mother for the flows that I'm givin'
Never give in, bust shows never missin',
Mad shots to ya chest, learn a lesson.
Your mother's at home and she's sweatin' and she's frettin',
Talk to the Feds, then she's missin',
Say my name, then she's missin',
Spoil my game, then she's missin'.
I'm gonna get 'er when she cookin' in the kitchen,
At night, in her bed when she kippin'.
My gun's rippin', yo there's no slippin',
My gun's rippin', yo there's no slippin'.
When I'm blazin' I'm grazin',
Burnin' bodies like raisins,
Puttin' bodies in basements.
And your crew is erasin',
Well white domination,
So Solid amazin'.
I know what's comin' though, it's more dough,
Flossin my clique, spittin' my flows.
This is my dough, my flow's,
Keepin' niggaz on their knees and tha bitches on their toes.
You see my dough, uh no no,
First lady lettin' all'v her chicks dem know.
Dem know, dem know,
Keepin' niggaz on their knees and tha bitches on their toes.
Why ya wanna know, if it was me?
What ya gonna do, if it was me?
Now I'm