That'll Work (Wanna Get Some Part 2)

[Verse 1] Your house of representatives, I lay down when clashing Pulverizing player haters, this is my passion Chopping competition like a lawn-mower when thrashing My weapons laying niggas flat like OD's of aspirin Murder bitches in the bed, strapped up with magnum Semen is the weapon and I cock, aim, and blast them After pussy pleasure, like a zip-lock, I trash them Dispose of my affection when another nigga stab them Down for the cause, seeing "Triple Bitches" fall Headbussaz getting mauled, who the fuck you gonna call No apologies, can't demolish me, this atrocity Predicted by Nostradamous, and classical astrology Devils go to hell, murdered dead in ATL I'm the prick you built your church on, no way you will prevail The beam from the tone, guillotine, niggas' domes Should've calculated game, no running when it's on [Chorus] You boys wanna get it on, that'll work It ain't no love being shown, that'll work Cause we'll jack you for your stones that you worth And when we get to cracking domes, that'll work Lemme hit that weed, that'll work Nigga hit that drank, that'll work Nigga move them seeds, that'll work Take them out that dank, that'll work Come ride with me, that'll work High-side with me, that'll work Get high with me, that'll work Smoke tai with me, that'll work [Verse 2] Another bitch I murder, blow away, Lord Sniff-a-Mous That moving script-Montana bitch was never dangerous Niggas get fedi, and I'm ready, with machetes Pull a drive-by, and ball off, like Mario Andretti (Brr-uck-em) You diss on radio, I come with street polluted tactics An automatic, hot as acid, when I pull and blast it Your static left you dead, where you stand, fuck a casket A casualty nigga relaxing on his air-mattress You hataz slower, know a Tech war is my profession Do quiet niggas do more damage, when they bring aggression I stayed in silency and thuggery, and learned a lesson My smiff-n-wessen run the show, in streets of Armageddon Another crazy bitch is braver, dingy shit is smelling And Over-6 bitches, I split it over 50 melons After the heat, my enemies repeat to be deceased How could you bitches be elite, your strip in rip in pieces [Chorus] [Verse 3] A little static ain't a problem Animalistic like a savage, when I rob them Wretches get blown out they shoes, and we grown men Millimeter chrome is the tool in the lion's den I slayed in pieces, check this man, I'm glad as fuck I'm gone, whack rappers on Posse songs Fucking up my shine, trying to let the truth be known Everybody left the 6, and now they sick The click that I'm with is the shit, and we gone murder you (ha ha) I done showed hella love, I done earned a million dubs I done blasted at your enemies and left them in the mud But you tried to cut my throat, pulling out stuff to keep from broke Bitches tried to keep my royalties, to build and share coke You the nigga in the thong, that you mentioned in the song Talking in 3rd person about yourself, you got it wrong Ain't no refuge, niggas cracking up like test-tubes For the next move, Juicy J'll get his flesh blew [Chorus] [T-Rock] Huh, you motherfuckers must've not knew who you was messing with or something? I guess they though T-Rock was gonna fall like a bitch But guess what nigga you ain't never fucked with a nigga like me And when you fuck with me, I'm at you [T-Rock imitating DJ Paul] T-Rock man, what the fuck man, uh.. Damn man, my little bitty arm and shit [T-Rock] Yea I know why that motherfucker so small Cause you've been sticking that motherfucker up Juicy J ass You bunch of gay motherfuckers Fuck Three Six nigga, you can't fuck with A-Town Thoroughbred, College Park, Area 51 Terrorists nigga This is TBK on mine, Triple Bitch Killa So fuck a small arm ass nigga like you And fuck that gay ass nigga Juicy J You the bitchiest nigga out the motherfuckers You weak ass bastards Fuck you nigga, go suck somebody else's dick Cause I ain't with that shit