[Pre-Intro – Spoken / Sampled Audio Over Dark Ambient Beat]
"Ja-Ka-Wel Productions and Phantom Studios presents... Native Ratchet City Sounds."
Featuring... Baby Boy Jay-Reed
"I Aim for the Throat"
Also starring... Piddling Riddling
[Intro – Voice 1 – Spoken Build-Up]
You awake? Then pay attention.
If you don’t wanna get fuh’d up, don’t just hear me—listen.
JaQaL the fuh’n Jackal, that’s me.
FCC—Food City Clique—reppin' the real South.
Boss City. Step lightly.
[Verse 1 – Voice 1 – Male]
Just remember step lightly in our hood
What you say, what you do—it’s not if you could.
Once you cross the line? No going back, no undo.
Like wolves we packing and tracking
Next thing you feel—the heat teeth.
Heavy with lead—we made your bed,
And it's six feet deep.
[Bridge 1 – Ja-Kall – Dark Gritty Spoken]
It’s better that way—a death that’s quick.
But if the block monster on the hunt…
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Jree goes for the throat.
And now? The rest?
Yeah, he wrote that.
[Verse 2 – Voice 2 – Male]
Food City dumb stoopid niqqa
I'm not by choice—an enigmah. Sigma.
Body bag filled and I'll send ya dtied up, muddy red rivah.
Took your livah—black mark’t biz
Boss City, six figgahs
Louisiana litter, bred k1llah
Hang u by your inners from an oak
Tree sitter—chop you down, wood splittah.
[Verse 3 – Voice 3 – Female]
Lemme translate what this dummy just said
We don’t talk money—but we all about bread.
Bred killa, born with her—twin sistah
Lived with her—don’t call me baby with her.
Paint brush like a smoke-bag lady
All this loud got me feelin’ like a old hag lately
Couldn’t hate me. Got all the positivity
~
Ayo bro—where all the activities?
Slicker than a lint-lickin’ cootie queen, bro
Black and white—slammin’ dominos, woah.
[Bridge 2 – Voice 3 – Spoken FX]
I think I’ve said enough.
Lemme put this thing down
...and pick back up that brush.
[Verse 4 – Voice 2 – Male – “Back in Blood” Style]
Sound like a h0e, straight outta line
Copper plated—definitely not a dime poo
Not sure about a translatah
Under her mask—Darth Vaydah
Tried to save her—Rittah with the jittah
Too many hits, now she got the shivahs
Flexin ivory bones
Not you or your clone
Slammin—see where your mind at
🍑 stacked—actin like a doormat
Transblendah—kin to Dookie Dawn
Pawn—small inners
No contestah—she on that funky trend
Gone—lie to shizz in the wind
And I wish a niqqa would… like a kitchen cabinet
Automatic—got Baby Rittah, aka Miss H.⁰
I had to quit the Ritter
How many can she fit in her
Double penetration
No debating
Any dick
She adjacent
Never patient
Hells creation
My time wasting
No ducks in a row
Sex partners?
Bro
She don't even know....
She lost count
Talking years ago
bitch I fucking hate you
[Outro – Guitar Solo / Haunting FX]
(Fade out with glitchy screams, gun clicks, whispers, wolves howling)