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Word up, Tequila style... eat the worm motherfucker
Tequila spice, hot nice
Feeling right, sipping on Jose Cuervo
Down in Tiajuana, Mexico
Thinking of the big score the night before
Met the connect, who was impressively dressed
In high fabrics
With troops like Babe Ruth, up on the mezzanine
Brandishing sub-machine guns, aye-yo
It's all about the money, son
Now that's the only reason
We came south of the border, to complete this work order
We gotta get it, no looking back, going all out for it
Ready to attack, die in a minute flat for it
As God is my witness, we got ditches
for all you motherfuckin fake bitches
It all boils down to the business
Nothing personal, when niggaz acting like they helping you
I fuckin blast you like Frank Castle, motherfucker!