Makembleed

[Chorus: Dom Pachino]
Make 'em bleed, stumbling while they running
Got them big ass slugs that be humming
Make 'em bleed, no one around to help ya
Got them big ass cannons that'll melt ya
Make 'em bleed...

[Dom Pachino]
By the baker's zone, you faking cousin
Your faith is nothing, I make 'em bleed, make 'em bleed
Like a new born seed, true indeed
No matter race, color or creed, I make 'em bleed
Leave the barrel smoking like weed
Eat your food like a sesame seed, bun
My gun, real chunky, I dare a nigga try and punk me
Like ach said, you wanna run with me?
Empty a clip, you won't get done with me
I spit shit for niggas that be in the slum with me
And my dun-duns, that sold a jum with me
Got to come with me, out the country
I've been places and seen things and seen different faces
Shootouts and parking lots, and high speed chases
Niggas getting hit up, suicide with shoelaces
Bitches getting up, fat ass with a thin waste
Remember there's, nothing sweeter than the taste

[Chorus]

[Dom Pachino]
I catch 'em off guard, suprise, right between they eyes
Make 'em bleed, make 'em bleed, til they feel they gon' die
I'm adament about these savages, they like faggots
Think it's time for them to eat the maggots, they're new address
Is Potersfield, they spot is filled, they seen a nine
They start to yield, then cat is peeled
Make 'em bleed, cuz they wasn't smart enough to wear they shield
They so fake, they start to shake when they see the real
Next take, lock and load, always hold a steel
Just got a thought that gave me a chill
Make 'em bleed all over the streets, stomp 'em out
Blood all over my cleets, I make 'em bleed out loud
Or silence and discrete... *gunshots*

[Chorus]

[Dom Pachino]
Straight off the block with gorillas and killas, drug dealers
Feel it's the realest shit, so bare wit', and let the snake kick
The kid you can't compare with, see black like Blair Witch
Poly with alligators in a swamp full of fish
I'm a go getter, gun under the sweater
Wanting more better, for my career endouver
Sever any head, I must, spit fire, smoke ya ass like dust
Now you never to fuck with us
It's Napalm, the grenade arm brigata
Got shit for the streets, got a shipment of product
Plus I'm psychotic, smoke herbs to calm my nerves
Got bitches in the P's, got bitches in the 'burbs
Come on, one day in the life'll have you bugging
We be straight thugging, cousin, you thought we wasn't?

[Chorus]

[Outro: Dom Pachino]
Yeah, ya'll niggas thought I was playing?
Aiyo, Rock, go get the whip...
He just turned the corner, follow him up the block...