Willie D

Guess My Religion

Willie D


Born, born, born, born, born, born, born killer 
I'm that mothafucking god damn nigga 
The brother that's tougher than any other you cover 
The one you don't wanna take home to your mother 
Fuck a loose screw, let me enlighten 
I got a whole mothafucking toolbox need tighten 
Fast like lighting, punch like Tyson 
It's a clash of titans when I start fighting 
So what's a god damn reporter? 
A nigga with a foot in his ass and a tape recorder 
Dissing W-I double L-I-E-D 
And don't know shit about me 
But you don't see me running 
I'm from the ghetto, hoe, so I keep coming... 
With more nerves, more verbs, more cuss words 
To fuck with the suburds 
You can't stand me or can me 
Bullets gonna go thru people if you ban me 
Cause you fucking with my livelihood 
For your health that ain't no good 
Like Breed I'm 20 below and getting colder 
Going out lika soldier... 

Crisp and clean I'm leaving the scene 
Blowing mothafuckas to smithereens 
And if I fall you know they didn't pimp me 
Cause the banana clip will be empty 
You say: Willie, clean up your act 
And maybe you can sell more records than that 
Survival comes before principles and morals 
So to the man on the street I'ma stay loyal 
And fuck up those who oppose 
Outta there smelling like a rose 
You ain't never seen a mothafucka kill a mothafucka 
Lika mothafucka named Willie D mothafucka 
Rambo can't go 
And Robocop get dropped like a hoe 
By something that they never saw 
An M-72A2 mothafucking law 
We can rumble in the jungle 
Or have a World War 3 right here on the concrete 
God damn, I done told ya 
(Willie D) goin' out lika soldier... 

Fuck this, fuck that is my motto 
Willie D is fucking everybody like a hot hoe 
So you better put a condom on your ear 
Cause I'm burning up the normal shit you hear 
Smoking, smoking 
Y'all mothafuckas know I ain't joking 
I've been paying my dues for a decade 
(What time it is?) It's time to get paid 
Yeah, fuck the bullshit 
And that nigga standing at the damn pulpit 
I left Charlie Brown on the cut 
Cause I felt like Snoopy working for peanuts 
Now my ass is soe 
And I can't be fucked no mo' 
So if you wanna test me, that'll hold ya 
I'm goin' out lika soldier... 

I'm goin' out lika S-O-L-D-I-E-R 
Pumped up for an all out war 
Searching like a predator 
With an M-16 looking for a magazine editor 
I know they don't write the columns 
But they co-sign every volume 
So I'm cutting off the head of state 
So the rest of the body can't operate 
And while I'm into the slaughter 
I may as well bust a cap on a TV reporter 
And a DJ by the way 
For giving that wicky wack shit radio play 
If that's your preference so be it 
But I'ma call it like I mothafucking see it 
And never be a pop chart trick 
Y'all talk loud but you don't say shit 
I'd rather boycott that picture 
And rap about that which affects ya 
You wonder why the cussing won't disappear 
God damn, we ain't happy down here 
Willie D got problems 
So when mom walk in, turn down the volume 
And act like you're doing your homework 
Or get your pussy or your dick knocked in the dirt 
There's a vet in your vicinity 
So pump up Ice Cube and jam Public Enemy 
And let the O.G. Ice-T kick a rhyme that'll mold ya 
And go out like a soldier...