| Messing with my cru | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| We will kill you | 
| We will kill you | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| (Clue) | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| Ha, I roll on your doo like bamboo | 
| Man listen, Aknel stay in condition like shampoo | 
| There ain’t a man who can handle | 
| Once I back slap you or clap you | 
| Bullets in your skin like a tatoo | 
| Now back to reality, you ain’t as bad as me | 
| I get down for my clan till they call me your majesty | 
| Nigga fat as me still fuck with strategy | 
| My dick stuck way up where her blatter be | 
| But that don’t matter see, I’ll serve your ass like Andre Agassi | 
| Fuck tennis, you dealing with a straight menace | 
| Wailing on your ass like Venice | 
| Well uh, got it sewn like a tailor | 
| Float like a sailor, truck like a trailor | 
| Scope with the | 
| All the above I’ve done the like Australia | 
| Straight bailing you out, one call from jail | 
| Aiming you out like Master P, that’s what we be a about | 
| I got ammunition for those dissing | 
| This ain’t R&B, that’s why I’m skipping all that rip shit | 
| I land one with the hand gun | 
| You could go ask Charles and he’ll tell you | 
| I’m the motherfucking man, son | 
| My gun had bust many mans, watch many mans | 
| Get swept the fuck off, there feet like dust pans | 
| You get touched, man, messing with us man | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| We will kill you | 
| We will kill you | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| (Clue) | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| Ha, I’m untouchable like Elliot Ness | 
| My foot will lay you down to rest | 
| And bless you with that Russell Simmons saint | 
| And say thanks for coming out and God bless | 
| Bow, fuck that bullet proof vest | 
| I got hollow pistol leave you with the bullet infested in the chest | 
| It’s the Aknel, you know I rock well | 
| I keep the gun point cocked like fucking barbells | 
| Who the hell want to touch this veteran | 
| Murder is the medicine, fine I’ll stop the pedaling | 
| Bullet in your brain leave your head in pain | 
| On the ground you’ll be laying reaching for exceteran ceteran, ceteran | 
| But fuck that headache 'cuz you headed for a wake | 
| I threw the gun in the lake, so they don’t see me upstate | 
| Now they don’t have a clue and shit | 
| Around the way I see your name written on the walls | 
| Like rest in peace in you and shit | 
| Your crew they ain’t doing shit | 
| Your mom’s talking about the city had you suing it | 
| Ha, I got the name Michael inbreded on the mack 11 | 
| They send punk niggas on the highway to heaven | 
| You want to see God hit you with about seven | 
| You want to see God hit you with about seven | 
| Like you shop in Pennsylvania, your blood straight redden | 
| Get it redden Pennsylvania, you want to shoot a fear one | 
| I might swing my hands like Macarena | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| We will kill you | 
| We will kill you | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| (Clue) | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| Messing with my cru | 
| We will kill you | 
| We will kill you | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| (Clue) | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do | 
| You don’t have a fucking clue | 
| What we came to do | 
| What we came to do |