[Verse 1: Sauce Money]
Five star General spit, hush them niggas
I star, why even discuss them niggas?
By far, I'm the shit, flush them niggas
Fuck them niggas, I'ma crush them niggas
Chrome heater, street sweeper
Gun shots get deeper, cough up a lung and a liter
12-shot 9 now, one of my new pets
And when these twins squeeze, it sounds like duets
Nigga, burn, yeah, my fam learn to earn
We got shit locked, with no key holes to turn
Platinum Navigator, easy when you earn a buck
It's like a big fuckin' beeper when you turn it up
Shit vibratin'
Hoes titties bouncin', rubbin' all on my shit – bitch, try waitin'
Straight to the telly, huh, Sauce got angles to hit
Billboard's triangles and shit
[Verse 2: Geda K]
And who's Geda? The Don Juan for you Don Con's
In the double-9 Yukon, tote two arms
From Brooknam 'till death do
And I bet you, when I spit shots they connect to dead you
Lil' monkeys postin' for wreck
They get trapped up and extorted for your toast and your vest
I'm no joke, so laugh and be laughin' to death
And if you think it's so simple, you'll be gassed and then left
It's the game tight nigga, chain two below
I'm a gigolo, mami – the fame I ain't fo'
The foes I don't hate, hoes I don't chase
Henny I drink straight, my money is big faced
For you small change niggas who playin' to ball
I got six digits now, what you playin' it for?
I'm the youngest out of Marcy and the shit don't stop
Steppin' up to the top 'bout to have shit locked
[Hook: Sauce Money]
You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits
Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)
Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)
The enemies plot on my riches
You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits
Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)
Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)
The enemies plot on my riches
[Verse 3: Wais P]
My Automatic Stouts be off balance
Gun with the silence
Outta state, mad mileage
Your crew wild, but we the wildest
Switch my trigger finger often to prevent a calus
For me, many men hold malice, I react with violence
Since we tryin' to double the dough, we double the sins
Even the gats is double now, lookin' like fraternal twins
The rap killings be serial
The Feds tried to link Da Ranjahz to the crime through the use of genetic material
I'm takin' all bets, who want it?
Wais, hard to touch, weavin' shit like Prince Naseem Hamed
The flow is 10 karat and your lyrics is poor, Big Horse
Plus you walk like your salad's been tossed
Smoke the explosion, rock second hand gold that's stolen
Straight haul off and smack a nigga just for posin'
Bleed Hennessy, rhyme like there's ten of me
So you remember me, every verse I'm on should be considered a felony
[Verse 4: Haph Dead]
Why the fuck niggas be hatin'? I don't even know
Niggas need to go ahead with them outdated flows
Da Ranjahz cause precipitation, and we rain in this bitch like
Hurricane Mitch
Fuck the fame, son, I'm in it for the dough and another whip
Ghetto cracked out on some other shit
Style switch, leave the whole city dark like the mothership
Ya'll know the Haph, I hold the 9 with the rubber grip
Seen less, ya'll re-imported by the government
If I wasn't rappin', I'd be on the corners bubblin'
Doublin' my cream on a triple beam
Instead I keep the team tight and feel like ain't shit gon' divide us
Not even riches, not even bitches
Look now, niggas of the world stay paintin' pictures
Of the inner-city realness
Who can relate? Roll a fat one and feel this
We put it down
[Hook: Sauce Money]
You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits
Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)
Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)
The enemies plot on my riches
You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits
Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)
Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)
The enemies plot on my riches
