Ain't Worried - Haiku

Ku: I’ll start a riot in this b****. I’ve been carried out a few times

Dubb: I’m strapped b****. I done carried out a few crimes

Ku: ‘Cuz of that, I’ve almost been buried ‘bout a few times

Dubb: These rappers talking s***, but I ain’t worried ‘bout a few rhymes

Ku: I ain’t worried ‘bout a few rhymes

Dubb: (Nah, nah) Look I ain’t worried ‘bout a few rhymes

Ku: I’ll start a riot in this b****. I’ve been carried out a few times

Dubb: These rappers talking s***, but I ain’t worried ‘bout a few rhymes

T-Dubb-O

(Yea. Look.) Strapped like dyke sex

About to make my dreams come true off this Pyrex

I must just slide up in the club with a nice tech

Drink twelve Bud Lights. I’m not the one to test like mic check

Standing on the couch spilling Henny on the dj

Flash the .30 at him make him put my s*** on replay

It’s Mob Lyfe, T-Dubb-O, you n****s know me

Hit the stage, make the whole crowd say «F*** The Police»

You see the VVSs. The necklace get her to go creep

I Speakerboxx into her Love Below like it’s ‘03

Start a riot like Tity Boi. Riding ‘round with that semi toy

Y’all show up when the war’s over, b****, like Helen Troy

I’m Achilles with lyrics. Kill them. Come get destroyed

Sick with the flow. Any chick’ll go. I spit iller noise

Ku, what’s the word? We get it cracking at any moment

You want to make your s*** hot, then put Dubb on it (What's up?)

Haiku

(Yea) You know I come from a tough breed, a city that’s known to crush dreams

These rappers plagued with too much greed, and there ain’t no honor amongst

thieves

Always lived by one creed: Cross us, and you must bleed

So keep my name out your mouth, put my dick in it. That’s the only way you gon'

succeed

And you know they can’t wait to hate when they see you stepping over your

milestones

But there really ain’t much you can tell somebody who’s living inside a no fly

zone

I’ve had police barging in my home, death threats in my iPhone

But I grip weapons like trick questions. They’ll leave you riddled and your

mind blown

These rookies be killing me thinking that they don’t have to show respect when

approaching vets

Acting so suspect, talking ‘bout hunting me down like Boba Fett

But I can’t count on my fingers how many times that I’ve been close to death

Now all of a sudden one of these corny rappers supposed to pose a threat?

Half these bastards throwing sets are 100 pounds when they’re soaking wet

And you think you’re laying my soul to rest? I don’t suggest you hold your

breath

With them women’s clothes in your wardrobe. Better get control of them hormones

You’ve been warned hoes. I’m turning the next award show to a war zone