"Divine Image" lyrics

I rock a gun on my hip
And I don't do this for the bread, I'm havin' fun with my shit
I send my shooters at your head, I heard they cut off your lip
I sent a picture to your mom, she said, "Thank God it's a fix"
She said, "I know that it's my son, but he won't stop talkin' shit"
I get too deep inside my mind, forgot I'm fuckin' this bitch
When she asleep, I run her cards and take her money and shit
Matter fact, if I say "Run me," you should run me your chains
Matter fact, I need the login to your B.O.A
And if it's no, then you'll be D.O.A
He know they,pastmeanin' me and my people may
Pull up with legal guns and make shit peaceful, equal, ayy
Pistol dissect you, hit your chest, you need a sequel, ayy
Body see-through, they think he need a sequel
That means he gon' need a part two, when two of the body parts move
I call that shit the shark food, swear I get in a dark mood
(They wouldn't understand it) Alright
I hit you with the harpoon
You best stop actin' scared 'cause I can hear your beatin' heart move
I hit you with the harpoon, I picture that like cartoons
Mind tuned the way the waves crash, your bitch a slut
I get her face smashed, I hit the straight gas the way I race past
I rob the Whole Foods and let the K's pass
I had no face mask, I'm walkin' straight past
The wicked fold and watch, they hate that
Ayy-bay-bay, I hurricane all on my wrist
And Katrina is my bitch, little aimin' with my wrist
Fuck fame, I'd rather go through pain and hit my wrist
Long line of niggas to kill or bitches to suck my dick
I rock a gun on my hip, drugs in my hand, bottle to sip
Shorty freaky, think a model [?]
Models ain't shit
I done fucked a baddie with the widest of hips
And she ratchet from the projects, she lit, alright