[Intro: E.L.G. & B.M.G.]
Yeah, yah, back up in this bitch
For the ninety motherfuckin' six
Ninety-six on these hoes
(Yeah, ho)
B.M.G. in this bitch
Back in this biatch
With your FN, layin' your funky tracks on y'all hoes
No doubt, for about this shit like this
[Verse 1: E.L.G.]
Niggas best beware of that motherfuckin' villain
It's hard to fuck with us, so prepare for the killin'
Livin' where it's realer, man, and you don't know the feelin'
It's time to grab my Glock and make a rocket for the million
Creepin' on your ass, with that mask, what you wanna do?
Boom is that sound, shootin' rounds down Glock we do
All my row dogs down smokin' pounds, it's that nigga who
Don't give a fuck, test your nuts, catch a slug, fool
Nigga with the mind full of crime, don't be guessin'
If you fail to see him, then a bullet you'll be catchin'
Always packin' a weapon, so keep steppin', don't let it happen
You know that talkin' shit, as my lyrics start to cappin'
The homies in the house and it's no doubt, I'm finna sew shit up
As I take shit over, walk right over, then I fulls you up
Pass a sack and drink the Yak and let my niggas roll it up
Now we gettin' smoked out, now my locs get loced out
Scopin' out the victim for the stang, man
You know, I'm still up in this bitch
Niggas from down South, we so gap with this gangster shit
Nigga, best believe it's about that cheesin' and I'll rob you trick
Grippin' on my Glock, pop, pop, pop, nigga, that's my shit, I'm slick
Raise up off these players nuts, shank you, I don't give a fuck
Nigga, we can slang, throw them thangs, what the fuck is up?
Rockin' the fuckin' microphone, that nigga straight from Tennessee
Psychopathic, schizophrenic, bitches cannot fuck with me
Trizzick on my dizzick, ho, stop swingin' on my fuckin' nuts
Keep on talkin' shit, I just might stick you in your fuckin' guts
Niggas shankin', now I think it's time to blaze that B-U-D
Now I'm high, really high, a hustler in reality
Enter the asylum, of a motherfuckin' lunatic
Introduce you to my tone, let's get in to some gangster shit
Nigga with the mind full of crime, I'm about to click
Shots out to you player haters 'til you give me somethin', nigg'
Back up off my dick because you know, you cannot fuck with this
Leave your body burnin' in a motherfuckin' crucifix
[Interlude: E.L.G.]
Yeah, like we said before, we still up in this bitch
Yeah, this shit don't stop, you know what I'm sayin'
[Verse 2: Lil Cheezy]
Up early in the mornin', rollin', tokin' swisher blunts
Thinkin' to myself, how can I get this junt crunk?
Light up another blunt, now I'm feelin' super straight
Player hatin' bitch type niggas, who I really hate
So I have to meditate, just to keep my mind right
If I don't, it's gonna be a killin' at the midnight
Pimp tight lyricist, buster can't fade this
Leave your body in a grave, talkin' all that weak shit
Come and get your wig split, but you ain't
'Cause you can't step to a psycho, gotta let you know
Once before, we let the bullets flow
Got the rap game sold up, hold the, stick up, now it's time to click up
Bang, bang, shoot 'em up, bloodied up your fuckin' guts
Trick, I thought I told you, don't you ever try to test my nuts
Creepin' through the front door, slowly, like a fuckin' sniper
Hyper, than a motherfuckin' fired piper
Silence, violence, is all that I think about
One, two, three, four punks that you read about
It be Lil' Cheezy in the back, that nigga with that three eight Gat
Keeps that motherfucker packed, just in case
These niggas act like they wanna hustler hate
I'm tryna feed my fuckin' kids, I be damned if they don't eat
Try to take what's mine, you trick
Any end will have to take to split a punk ass nigga's dome
Chop a hater with my chrome, take off my mask, so I could be known
I don't give a fuck, got shit to lose, I just go buck
You feel the ooze, ain't had enough, now catch the blues
My shit is rough, you knew the rules
Before you stepped to a pimp type niggaro
And I ain't scared, to go toe to toe, to let these bitch-ass niggas know
It's gon' take a murder case to put these tricks up in they place
Lock you in my Chevy, will bump for E.L.G., keeps twistin' skunk
Players get your fuckin' Gat, 'cause you know the robber's back
It's so black out for these punks 'cause Little Cheezy gettin' it crunk
[Verse 4: Playa Fly]
Everlastin' gangster player bound to reach the fuckin' top
S.P.V. is backin' me, bustin' wide player lock
Niggas down from Jackson, bumpin' tracks and keep us taxin', ho
Blinded by their whiteness, got you frightened on that goodie dope
Dirty Dud and Gangsta stayin' rizzaw and inflictin' pain
Player from the shower, full of powder, coca fuckin' caine
Gettin' it crunk and gettin' a drank, full of funky roaster, bitch
Down to make a dollar, don't you holler buster, follow this
S.P.L. is super thick, clickin' quickly, fulla blunts
Now that Playa's on the scene, tell me, did Fly get it crunk?
