Blow Yo Ass Off

(album: Smoked Out Loced Out - 1994)

Smoked out, loced out, riding with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aiming at your skull
Smoked out, loced out, riding with the pistol grip
I don't-I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aiming at your skull
Smoked out, loced out, riding with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aiming at your skull

Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off

Late, last night, lying in the bed, eyes red
Thinking should I get these ho's
Thinking should I cut they head
Should a nigga plan a hit, or grab my pistol grip
And take care my business, 'cause they don't who they fucking with
Call my nigga Project Pat, 'cause I know he got my back
Fuck writing rhymes, this is real shit, not a track
Camouflage in the dark for the ones who act hard
The Devil on my left side, the other side I'm seeing God
Why do niggas talk shit? Niggas can't stick together
Seeing a nigga get killed, will make a nigga feel better
So, I just walk in a pace, thinking of the case of mothafuckas
Who trait pistol to your fucking face
This ain't no game, nigga, my finger's on the trigger
The time is running out, my conscience saying I gotta get him
Is there a way, that a nigga can escape from Hell?
I fucked him up with the Mossberg buck shells, bitch

Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop-drop-drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off

Mossberg is all he heard after the doorbell rang
Buck shots to the brain, Triple 6 style, mane
This antibiotic's for any nigga sick about my six-double-six
An automatic w'izz'ig spl'izz'it
We mothafucking thick
My niggas in Fowler Homes down
S.P.V., Cleaborn Homes, Watkins & Brown, Queensmound
Trigg & Lauderdale, Lakeview G's, and them Texas Court G's
The riverside G-A-N-G-S-T-A
Niggas down with the Triple Six Mafia
Let's ride, Smoked Out, Loced Out with a fat .45 on the seat
'Bout to make a sucker nigga eat the barrel
When I stick it in his mouth
Give me cheese, say your ABC's
Kind of hard to do, when my pistol's in your grill
Mouth full of gold teeth, smile for the kill
I'm telling you sucker ass niggas for the last time
Don't run your mouth
The Triple Six Mafia niggas will blow your ass off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop-drop-drop-drop it off, drop it off
Bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch-bitch-bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it-drop it off-drop it off
Bitch, I got a-bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it-drop it off-drop it off
Bitch, I got a sawed off

Walk up-walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door
And blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch, I got a sawed off