Blood On My Chucks (Remix)

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Bukshot] I think they get it now (now), what they fucking with (With) I can smell they fear (fear), ain't that something bitch (Bitch) I'm the alien reaper (reaper) like Sigourney Weaver (Weaver) Beat the drum of death (death), street sweeper (Street sweeper) Ain't got nothing on me, I came back and brought my cronies Helter Skelter shit, you ain't scared then show me Meet my dead homie, Mr. Grey and R.O.C Blood dripping off my Chucks, ain't no make-believе Jason mask, but you already know that You ain't got to ask mobbin' Ninjas that's a cold fact Next door neighbors comе up missing in your cul-de-sac That's an imprint to killers, Zodiac [Chorus: Mr. Grey & The R.O.C.] Blood on my chucks, shotgun dumps I don't give a fuck, blood on my chucks Blocka blocka, artillery shocker Blocka blocka, die motherfucker Blood in my cup, drink it all up Going fucking nuts, blood on my chucks Blocka blocka, artillery shocker Blocka blocka, die motherfucker [Verse 2: The R.O.C.] Blood's on my nunchucks, swing for your head, what? Stomp you with my kicks bruh, what's the brand? Black leather Chucks Roll with the homies our purpose to destroy Our competition don't exist, I'll deploy Missiles at your whole camp (Camp) Bite 'em like we all vamp- (Vamp) Pires our desires solved, our hunger's got us so amped (Amped) The crew is so ghoulish, move cause we foolish Live in the ruins where your mind will go through it Insane, yes we are (are) bodies in abattoir (Toir) Display it in the park (park) where the dead roams, heart (Heart) Beat is pumping fast, better scram before we hit You in yo dome with this chuck then wipe the blood from my kicks, bitch [Chorus: Mr. Grey & The R.O.C.] Blood on my chucks, shotgun dumps I don't give a fuck, blood on my chucks Blocka blocka, artillery shocker Blocka blocka, die motherfucker Blood in my cup, drink it all up Going fucking nuts, blood on my chucks Blocka blocka, artillery shocker Blocka blocka, die motherfucker [Verse 3: Blaze Ya Dead Homie] I got yo blood on my Chucks and yo forehead looking like cold cuts Pistol-whippin' till your skull blow up, bitch you gettin' no love Drag yo body face down through the road (Road) And stomp 'em till there's scuff marks on the soles (Yeah!) Gotta let 'em know so I keep a case loaded ready and set to blast (Blast) With the aim, I'm first class (ha) getting the last laugh (Ha ha) Whip the knife out, happened so fast When I stab and I slash, my Chucks in blood I leave a path All pro blueprints, All Star shoeprints All up over your clothes, see it was foolish (Yeah) To try and test a dead man who ain't got shit to lose And quick to get some blood on his shoes and make the news (Now!) [Chorus: Mr. Grey & The R.O.C.] Blood on my chucks, shotgun dumps I don't give a fuck, blood on my chucks Blocka blocka, artillery shocker Blocka blocka, die motherfucker Blood in my cup, drink it all up Going fucking nuts, blood on my chucks Blocka blocka, artillery shocker Blocka blocka, die motherfucker