(Lynch):
Feel my nature rise, blood shot red eyes
Waitin' in your back seat, catch you by surprise
Situations and circumstances make you take them dangerous chances
Leave you in your front seat with your neck slit, then I'm hittin' fences
Now I'mma talk about the same dirty situation
Shit you hatin', that's why your casket is waitin'
Shine your ass up like a triple gold Dayton
When I'm in your town you better cut like Walter Payton
Studio man keep tapin', I got that bitch, she peratratin'
Show your whole family, leave you on your front porch hangin'
With a note that's saying: 'sincerely, Swartzaniggaz'
Put your hands in your pocket, give it up
I demand I need my tweed, potent refer, man
Bandstandin' with the hand cannon
Split my face, muthafucka, gimme your scrill
And that Rolex in your hand, understand?
Yeah, you gots to feel my nature rise

(C.O.S.):
I can feel my nature rise
Starin' at the marks that I despise
Through evil eyes, hostile thoughts turn homicides
Somebody gots to die, for tryna ride and get me
Got some off, but none of them hit me
Now on a payback tip, with a pitch black mask
And a grasp on a 50 caliber weapon
Hangin' up over the door of the Chev and causin' slaughter
Sid's Malt Liquor be that motive when I be loaded off that water
Saw the situation heavy rollin'
Shotgun and a Chevy that's stolen
Strapped up and ready in case these niggas might wanna get deadly
We can go there, I know there's a place for busta niggas like y'all
But I heard that it's pretty deep down so you niggas better watch your fall
Too late for that 911 call, this murder's already in progress
Home invasions like Asians got me obsessed like a Vietnam vet
As I kick through the front door, blastin'
And Lynch kicked down the back
Operation: Peel-a-cap, you fools shoulda already had your gats loaded
Cuz it ain't no tellin' when we comin'
Back streets, sacks of weed get blazed as we gunnin' with the engine still runnin'
Cuz real killers make them real quick get aways
Spray the whole place and skirt
As quick as we can, we does our dirt
Whoever gets hurt, that's business
So please don't take this personal
It's just that murder's in my nature
So for years now, that's what I've been searchin' for
Cuz doin' dirt grows old when it's the same old thing
That's why I try to take my murders to the highest extreme
Make everybody scream, open up some spleens
Still hearin' the blood spillin'
It's just a little dream that I be havin'
Man, I love killin'

(Brotha Lynch):
I got a hard dick for killin'
Southside villain
Protect your wife and your children
Feel my nature rise

(Sicx):
Not too much known about this nigga?
Well, check your metro sections
Then cross reference murders by streets and dates
And how many times niggas' hoes' got raped
Mr. No Prints, the reason one time runs out of yellow tape
Fuckin' with a half deck, havin' niggas on hush
Smokin' up on that irie dust
Open up your chest when I bust
So suit up, cuz it's Killa Nigga Night
Ain't no tellin' when Triple Sicx gets to shootin' up
Movin' up your death date, with a Tre-8 special
It's way too late to wrestle, as I nestle this heart stopper
Split your ass open like pinata
Loadin' up like a Rotweiler
Lining up like Tyson snortin' cocaine powder
Propane sniffer, some like lighter fluid, but I beg to differ
But one wiff of that shit and I'm on cloud nine
Nigga, don't trip if you ain't got no nuts
Cuz I brought mine all buffed and shined
Untouchable when I'm fuckin' full of that Night Train wine
And when I bust all nineteen times, it's up
Cuz I'm nuts, goin' out my mind
For you there's just no luck, you fucked for life, for sho'
Get your ass up on the floor
Tried to catch me at that light rail, slippin'
By my lonesome, but I'm on some, so who wants some?
Fresh out the gates, ain't no room to make mistakes
Try to make my tapes, but I feel the ho hate
Tuck my dick inside in the O-8
Must of been the way the clip mate with the .45th
No body, no case
Taste the meat, can't wait to eat
Keep the street dirty, heat sturdy in your face

(TallCann G):
Y'all niggas don't wanna feel my nature rise
Cuz I get dirty, shoot up shit with my Clint Eastwood
Leave your neighborhood lookin' like a ghost town, nigga
You standin' on dangerous grounds
So when you come to Sac, better have your automatics on loaded status
Cuz me and my niggas be on the savage, leavin' no prints
Not givin' y'all niggas a inch, cuz I'mma lynch you
Fry your guts like Sizziline
Have your homie reminiscing' about your gangsta lean
Nigga, it ain't no fuckin' with my clique
You can dial 911, but it ain't no rescue
Better hope the dear Lord bless you
Next to this nigga, ain't no one's nuts bigger
Clutch your guts nigga, fuckin' with this Swartzanigga cuz I done lost it
Attackin' niggas like a pit with rabies
Gone off 40 ounces of O.E
Creepin' up on you, like doin' my Magnum P.I
Lazy eye with a little Black & Mild smoke
And a hard dick for killin'