Lyrics
Yo, what's your name young blood?
What they call you?
Well, I got, I got James, Jimmy or Byron Dean
Yeah, I've been feeling that real JD swag lately
Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye stepped up in this piece
Bust my Glock to ensure that all you niggas rest in peace
Uh, Schwarzenegger I, straight slaughter niggas
I'm offin' niggas, screaming off with niggas heads
They all surrender, better call for niggas
Come at all you niggas heads, talk 'em off a ledge
I'm arguing with 'em, I'm done talking with 'em
I order coffins for 'em, call the coroner for 'em
Get a comforter for 'em, I did all you niggas beds
I want all you niggas dead
You want oil nigga money, royalness, and bread
Royalties instead of Rollies for your boys, but loyalty is dead
Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye stepped up in this piece
Bust my Glock to ensure that all you niggas rest in peace
Rep my block, quick to draw on all you niggas if there's beef
Blow your spot, better pray to the Lord this shit don't hit the streets
Jimmy Dean
