Lyrics Live at the BBQ - Styles of Beyond

Ap ain't merciful
Shoot up your convertible
Lay your body flat while your soul goes vertical
Versatile, impossible to pigeon hole
Gettin' doe, spittin' flows
From complex text to pimpin' hoes
That's why your girlfriend feel me man
It's alarmin' how charmin' I really am
Got a Glock that'll Rock like a Band
So this gun in my right hand is named Steely Dan
Steal the show, steal hoes, steal your fans
Steal my flow?
We'll hang you from ceiling fans
Your little ho tryin' to front like she's hard to get off?
Tell that finger lickin' chicken bring the barbecue sauce
Ayo I stay clean Rake Doe, lay low with a full clip
My yayo fiends on payroll get smacked over bullshit
Motive, notice I never fall victim to no one
The truth that'll fuck tracks in the booth with a Trojan
Respect due cause whole crew, is professionals
Quickly show a nigga what a knife in the chest will do
While y'all front, still spittin' the same
The only time y'all kill somethin' is on a video game
Cause any beef we're gonna ride at all cost
Have you shot in your cars
Have you sittin' +Sideways+ like Paul Wall
Chopped and Screwed up, cause you niggas do suck
That's why your girls chained to our sticks like nunchucks