[intro: gangsta pat]
Who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break ou-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break o-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
[verse 1: 8ball]
Eight ball is coming hard with much fun, to bump up a sucker right
The hit man, quicker and thicker than things, quicksand
Hard like a veteran, me, i'm the better one
If i make one, i'll leave you shaking for another one
Like cocaine, i crack block, gotcha
Moving to what i'm doing and grooving, when i'm doing such hardcore hits
Got you having a fit, that's why your ladies at the crib drooling over this
Hard max from tennessee, girls wanna get with me
And stuff that a sucker says don't really mean jack to me
One after another and then another and then another, to eliminate a stupid little sucker
Got him on his knees beggin' me please not to shoot
So i kicked him from behind with my gold tip boots
The mac would, yeah you know
Gotta kill him like a psychopath real slow
See i'm not a nut, but you better move with the quickness
Cause what i do it might be sick, it's crazy, homicidal, lunatic
Whatever word you choose is bound to fit when i kick this
You better run it, figure, that nine times out of ten
I got a gun with a trigger with some bullets with my hand wrapped tightly around it
Cause i've gots to be real
[chorus]
Who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break ou-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break o-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
[verse 2: 8ball]
Gotta move like a terrorist, cause suckers are after this
Brother with the hard rhymes, dealing with gangstiness
The villain that's shooting, and killing with a twisted dome
With a center stacker, singing to a rest home
Best known for caking, then breaking a trick
I got a gang so strong, i'd just be taking my pick
From the girls that wanna go, and do it slow with primro
The money making fat mac, from money making [?], looking for a [?]
Maniac with a sack, with a room, with a bed, and a bottle full of yak
Cause that's the way it be goin' down
All these witches with these itches, and the stuff that be goin' round
But it won't affect me, no trick will affect me
So i won't be waitin' for the doctor to inject me
Too hard to be mistaken for a lady, i was born in the mounds so you know i'm crazy
Been told by the girls that i pulled when i chose up
When it comes to mackin', i got the game sewed up
Fat mackin' ain't no bull, it's nothin'
But the pimp thang, mack thang, girls wanna get with
For a trick remorse i won't feel, my name is 8ball baby and i've got to be real
[chorus]
Who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break ou-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break o-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
[verse 3: 8ball]
Being real, i got this problem man, all these fools
They wanna join the clan, they wanna be down with 8ball from orange mound, the fat mac
No for doing funky hits, that's why 8ball is dropping this track, jack
To make my bank fat, i'm making crazy papers with girls catching the vapors
Killin' sucks dead with stuff i said, when i was a young child
Buckwild, kickin' it with the gangsta style p-o-double-s-e, suckas don't try to test me
Girls just doin' the chewing, bow down and bless me
You better check the mic, before i wreck the mic
Cause i'm in the mood, to tear the house up tonight
I'm like jason or freddie, in the worst horror flick
Making funky funky funky funky funky funky, dope hits
That weak suckers can't cope with
That's why i wrote this so you can quote this
Black fat mac on the attack, jack
You better sit back, and relapse
Cause i'm about to, wax and tax our brothers
And weak little suckers, that wanna roll with the posse
Yeah they tryna jock, these macs from memphis
[?] playing the girl
A bona fide jiggalo, and i've got to be real
[outro]
Who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break ou-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break o-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who-who-who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Bre-bre-bre-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product
Who's that knocking at my door? narcotics!
Break ou-break out artillery, hide the motherfuckin' product