Inna your own blood, I say these fools on the ground, yuh
Seem to me like a circus in town, why?
Everywhere I go, I see another clown
Plannin' a demise, tryin' to bring me down
But these guns that I'm holdin'
They hold fifty round, the other two on my hip
Well it's only for survival
Load up my .45, now I'm dealing all my rifles
Tell the foreign that they're one of them dead on arrival
Tryin' to stop a puzzle, well them fools got their handful