If I had twenty four hours to live, I'd probably die on the fifth
Run in the station squeezin the inf'
I'll be waitin' to get to hell and bust down Satan
Styles' on this shit and I got spot vacant
Back to the twenty four I make it out the precinct
Shootin niggas that I hate in they face while they eatin'
I'm on the job robbin' every so-called Don
Give the money to my moms and tell her that I'm gone
I would school my little brother that niggas mean him harm
He should learn to tell the future without readin' palms
When they come in with the bullets, you prepared with the bomb
So fuck bein' violent get stocks and bonds