Tech N9ne It's the Don Town business, damn! (Chyeah) Calm down with that killa talk, we know you ain't a killa, boy Froze up, he saw da Glock, but the chop the real McCoy Fishscale, no re-rock, dog food in my catalog Bought the house off one room, this a nice-ass kitchen, dog Out the way and the money coming Never seen, always into something Pull up with this superbad, she 'bout to get hit like McLovin' Navy seal, get a headshot, retro kicks on deadstock Owing money, get his hand chopped, fuck around, get ya man’s knocked Falling off? I never will Home improve, I gotta drill Told my bitch don’t make no bottles Gotta half a brick in the Enfamil Fuck you know 'bout stash spots? Chopping cars at stash lots Money trees from cash crops Rap game in a headlock Whip up a little water in it Gotta movie, yo daughter in it Fish bowl, no windows tinted Blowing gumbo gas, it’s Creole-scented Give away these nuts free, take yo ass to Five Guys Frying all these fucking birds, they love that chicken like Popeyes Branched off and franchised, bullshit get minimized Started off with one key, turned that bitch to an enterprise Solo might kill a witness, yo bitch sent you on a dummy mission .40 cal, no dummies in it, just another day, just another nigga Calm down with that killa talk We know you ain't a killa, boy Froze up when he saw da Glock But the chop the real McCoy We ready if you coming with the funk And it's guaranteed we gon' hit ya good Deep inside, I really wish a nigga won't Even though I'm from the wish-a-nigga woods 'Cause if you come around and make bro go stupid Talking loud like a do-do doofus We stepping with the rojo, the fo' fo's and photo shoot shit Fo' ever to funk in no mo' music Spark the flame, we aim and trained to go Darkness came, my gang got fangs to grow Heartless pain you gain in anger, bro Depart the lame, my thang got brains to blow Shot ya mane, the bane became the ho In a box for shaming, strange ya hang fa sho Lots of fame when slain remain below Stop the games and change the lane ya roll I am no longer a pacifist, it is war that you have to get 'Cause I am into you, the masochist Ain't no laughin', it's packin', assassin is fast and baggin' in packages Under grass ain't the half of it I'ma send you where your bible say the wicked evil masses is Brimstone in your ashes, bitch Hoping you have a blast looking at ass of a bath of me For haters killin', Tech can still deploy And if they succeeded, they would feel the joy Whenever happen, because Dewey Da Don and the Midwest Chopper is the real McCoy Last thing you hear (bam!) Silence of you and silence of the (lamb!) Making everything pause like I'm (can!) Really scary things that make 'em say (dwamn!) Err, I mean (damn!) Calm down with that killa talk We know you ain't a killa, boy Froze up when he saw da Glock But the chop the real McCoy Tech N9ne It's the Don