Worries

Trouble again, when the dwellas performing, why yo
 Worries again, when the dwellas coming skanking
 Hey yo, it's the tall man from the group the cella dwellas
 I rock ruff and stuff, but no afro puff
 Y'all better start learning, for whom is concerning
 My style makes niggas vexed like mississippi burning
 All these wack MC's trying to be o-dog and manage at society
 At my show's iamb, that's when I get possessed by the gods like Raiden
 The Panamanian,
 Tasmanian,
 AK's like an Arabian
 Move the lady and, the baby and, I gets kinda crazy and
 Shady and, when I flex the .380 and
 Niggas got no wins, crush them like wheat thins
 Peace to all the shorties whoever hit me off with skins
 When them fed bloodshed by the liter
 No impala, 850 coupe two seater
 And mida, mida mayne, don't sleep
 One love to my all peeps that rest in peace
 Phone dials from the rooftop
 Stay in trouble like 2Pac,
 With dumb dumb and hollow tips
 Some swallow shit, others get grazed
 Others burn and cause to blaze, bruh
 Under ground, gets down for his
 So blond kids putting krazy glue on the eyelids, so
 Act like Po and get low, when you hear the ch-ch blow blow
 Of the boo-ya, bringing it to ya chest, hit ya cardio
 Muscle is the part of ya, hustle the bus stop
 To rust stock, to come from empty em
 Many men, big dust when the max lit
 When the track hits the dat split from the fat shit
 You better prepare for warfare in the Brooklyn streets
 Don't pick up your chest or fake gats
 Cuz mats is what I run to, and gun through
 Bodies, niggas die for cash causing haughty
 Gotti is the Italian stallion I want to be like
 Me and you G ride cracks like ninja bikes
 Watch yo ass, cuz Cella Dwellas lurking
 Name ain't Anthony, but the shank's still perking
 Out my stoop got mad troops
 In my ride I wanna sun roof and stash place to make the gun proof
 From the keystone cops who get no props
 For these soldier toys, trying to be rough like corduroy
 If you want the drama caps get peeled, like that is real
 Like that for crab niggas who squeal like that
 And chit chat behind my back, lie fair face
 Them kinda tricks we convict on the stair case
 Yo some bad news, like the bad
 Where's my homies? like killa now
 My killer style gets the check, so I can pay the bills
 To get the dills, run up in chicks named Beverly hills
 9-0-2-1-0, the duo dynamic, so push the panic button
 How UG be the emcee, you can't see, like the muppets nanny
 The man be sticking niggas for grand
 (Shit be walking in the dark alley man)
 Like Chris Tucker, shit raiser, in the wrist band
 Riff and, open your mouth is like? box
 So stop screwing and bad looks
 Don't tempt me, to let the 4-4 empty