It's East 1999 time.. I promise that I'll hunt you bastards, zip 'em in casket, here to get drastic, fast in a hurry.. Is you ready for me magic?. Let 'em blast, and nigga, bet I bury, then move, true to the murder mo, gladly, 'cause the haters never had to have me, want to follow fools through alleys, 'cause ready to lose and daddy who raised me like Layzie, Krayzie, probably St..