Love murder

Red hot honey dipped in satin
See her jack
I’ma clip him wit’ my Roscoe
Won’t be in the blodder cuz there’s no snitch
I’ll leave that stiff on the street, hit the ro’
Skeet in my Lincoln without a hitch
No Chicago kimono for this fellow 

Smoke a cig to drop the jitters
Switch gears in the ghost cuz I got no alibi
Phone the connections, they clean the scene
hide, lay low
If buttons roll up, gonna bang ‘em with slugs
They claim I’m a killer, the proof is confidential
Gossip as we fly in the Lincoln, that’s presidential

Boyo, see that tomato
Where’s her man? Who knows?
I’m buggin’ for this broad
Marry, couple babies
Drop the mob biz, No big C’s
Honest
Rats! ops got evidence, now I’m in a pinch
Locked up for a dime
Now she’s got two kids and no man