El Sicarios

[Intro: Mastamind]
Nah, nah, you the man (You the man, dog)
Nah, it ain't me, you the man (What's up with you?)
I'm just saying (You good?)
You got the best hand (Yeah, you good)
Play that shit right (Play it right)
Good luck out here (My nigga)
Good luck

[Verse 1: Esham]
He was a known drug dealer, everybody know him
Taking pictures on the gram with [?]
Screaming gang, gang, gang like he [?]
Man, everybody watching, even po po [?]
But he don't really care, slanging drugs like it's legal
Think you balling like the Pistons 'til the feds come and see you
Got you calling up your people once they hit you with the RICO
Locked inside a cell, hear no, see no, say no evil
Ain't no fakin', no mistakin', lots of money you was makin'
In the kitchen you was bakin' 'til them snitches started cakin'
Cakin' cakin', Dunkin, Heinz, Betty Crocker, Sara Lee
Other killers made me 'cause I need some therapy
Can't get shit free, it cost a fee, we will agree to disagree
You could end up six feet deep if you mention dissin' me
Don't give a fuck, don't press your luck, a million slugs, a million bust
Adios, don't fuck with the Sicarios, good luck

[Chorus: Mastamind]
Get money, big money, hurry, get it now
Grave digger bury that shit in the ground
Good luck
Get money, big money, hurry, get it now
Grave digger bury that shit in the ground
Good luck

[Verse 2: Esham]
I'm on some east side shit fo shizzle, my pockets thick like Lizzo
Sittin' down in this biz, I'd heard a knock at the dizzo
The fiendy want some izzo, but I think it's the po pizzo
My trigger finger's itchy so I'm whippin' out my pistol
These slugs look like a missile, if you snitchin' blow the whistle
Then all over the wall be your blood and brain tissue
Oh no, got your mama crying again
Heard the shots rang out, niggas dying again
Boy please, I could shoot you from a distance
I'm like Chauncey Billups when he played for the Pistons
Hitting threes all day in your face
But before I get this paper, I must say my grace
A lot of rappers want my name erased
'Cause they know whoever in that number one spot I can replace
Mr. big shots with the big knots never flip flop
Gangsters don't dance, we boogie, fuck TikTok
The wicked shit will never stop beatin' down your block
CIA, FBI on my dick, but fuck the cops
IRS, wanna audit me, they know I make a lot
If they kickin' in my door then I gotta shake the spot
Fuck a pig and his slop, fuck a op like a twat
Talkin' 'bout what you got'll get you shot like a bot
I heard niggas don't like me, well I don't like niggas
Why I keep big guns and my fingers on the trigger
My pockets done went from smaller to bigger
They can't tell you I'm broke, you know I clock seven figures

[Chorus: Mastamind]
Get money, big money, hurry, get it now
Grave digger bury that shit in the ground
Good luck
Get money, big money, hurry, get it now
Grave digger bury that shit in the ground
Good luck