While you fidget, you could get kill't for your digits
Capture, duct tape rapture, slapped ya
It's the real, it's the Militia
'Cause your soul was bought for what they payin'
You got an army, you still ain't got no wins against us
Give a nigga pain
Give a nigga pain
Listen to a brother who knows
That'll show up on stage, puffin' on contraband
Put your money in the bank and hold rank
Listen to a brother who knows
And you could catch it, some royal heat from the snub
See men and strap ya, cock back and blast ya
Black mags to blow your whole chest in half
Since the streets is watchin' niggaz might see us often
To take your heart, it's thug grand death
Served up my Venus and Serenes, cocked back
Militia man, man part three
I know you cram to understand the plan but you too
Bustin' heads, body bags and toe tags
Parked while on the street out of unseen vans
We bought you this book of torture, this one is Capture
You're gonna need more than a lot of tattoos on y'all
Clapped ya, to Internet emcees I'm virus
I'll creep on the low, keep it a secret yo
Put your money in the bank and hold rank
It's capture, get out the truck, I'm keepin' your wheels
I swore an oath to dump on you, out the Jeep window
I'll bust right till I find just Bumpy left
Blow up your fuckin' house while we still lookin' at ya
It's the militia
And make it burn
We told you rap cats we would keep it poppin'
See, all I got is a lot of bad news for y'all
I advise you to tell us where the cash is
It's the militia
You wanna have Bumpy's heart, you got to have Bumpy's chest
Y'all know who wrote the Bible in rap, for keepin' it real
Put your money in the bank and hold rank
You're gonna need more than doo rags and Timb's against us
I push these lyrics through any emcee
And fuck your goons, 'cause we always get what we're after
I don't care if you a geek or a thug, you sleepin' on us
Caught up in the rapture, front and we will capture
I'm a warrior, niggaz screamin' "Bumpy shot Cyrus"
Itchy fingers cause nothing but gun fire
Y'all know who buck fifty your face, I'm keepin' it concealed
I'm checked in to every hotel that you lay in
I drop bombs hit you with the curse of Jevron
First name Vete, last name Ran
It's capture, 'cause you've got a gun, you never conceal
If you don't know the equation then you can't do the math
I'm the law of the land, the rawness of man
Broken arms, shattered glasses, whipped asses
We the champs, not really to boast and brag
I'm the unseen hand that controls two hundred niggaz
I leave my hardcore demeanor in every rap arena
I spit raw verses that y'all ain't sayin'
I'm sick with it, I'm built with stilts for you midgets
And underground club that I play in
I'll bust mics till I have just enough breath
Just to feed the babies I'll infect you like rabies
Listen to a brother who knows
We disallow all these cats in the camp
Give a nigga pain
Give a nigga pain
Everybody get the fuck up, welcome me back
There's one ripped out the frame, felony act
Niggaz come to my suite to pick up heat
With a lust for the gravy, you know the God must be crazy
