[Intro: Rell Vert]
We got smoke, this shit free
On my dead homie
(This shit gon' be crazy, Jacc)
Brrt
Lil' Vert
I'm wit' Opp, bitch
You know that, ha
Long-live Jeff, long-live Scoom (Uh-huh)
[Verse 1: Rell Vert]
Ridin' the truck, we was thirsty to swing that door
Get the lo, we gon' turn the nigga right to a ghost
Don't trust these hoes, they gon' try to backdoor
All I know is he was woofin' and his ass got smoked (Spanked)
Had on a nice watch and his ass got poked (Give me that)
They ass got a deal and they ass back poor
You ain't wanna die, then what you lacked for?
If I ever go broke, we in the trap, bro (Trap)
Niggas played with gang, now they fuckin' trap closed (Huh?)
My head too fried, they know we rack hoes (Grr)
I like that switch, bro like Micros
Two bitches that kissin', that's my type hoes
You safe over here, better than Geico (Geico)
I'ma score every time, don't give me iso
When I'm on that court, ball like Mike, ho (Uh-huh)
Still'll ride a straight 8, even though they mike those (Yoom)
Tap the gas, too fast, they can't mike those (Yoom)
A .40, a Drizzy, that's my type poles (Grrt)
I hang with the savages, we won't break or fold
Don't honor the snitching, we stick to the codes
He was up in the streets back then, but he told
All rats must die, free the gang, free the bros
[Interlude: Big Opp]
Hello?
Hello?
Who this?
[Verse 2: Big Opp]
All rats must die, free the gang, free the bros
We ain't fucking with that nigga if we heard he a snitch
Nigga told on the body and he talk too much, like FBG Butta, that nigga a bitch
From the 9 to the 9, you'll get clapped up, if you mention Lil Jeff, you get shot in ya' shit
And it's long live Scoom, I ain't trusting no ho, if she try to backdoor, give her ass like six
I'm running with gravediggers, when I bail out the whip, guarantee I'm the one first one clapping
Fresh off the pint, I got right in a hot, got to spinning, I don't give a fuck about rapping
The opps know I'm standing on business, I be first to shoot, so it ain't no reason for bapping
Too many times, you niggas was crying, and Big Opp the reason yo' son wasn't laughing
Big Opp the reason you niggas be dying
Big Opp the reason y'all mama's be crying
Big Opp the young nigga, 20-years-old with two chains, and he making a bag off rhymes
Big Opp the reason he merch on his man's, so Big Opp the reason he ain't gon' slide
Big Opp the reason for a whole lot of shit, and I don't duck shit, bitch, I be outside
[Verse 3: BloodHound Q50]
Wanna show me you rock? At the 7, they not, they gon' spin through the Pocket
Post on the 'Gram in a Scat, pull up, Fin-fin, they dumb-ass thought I was in a Charger (Go)
This shit getting too easy, two more hats, I'm right there with the reaper
Rinsing shit off for my brother, when I catch me a nigga, I'ma send his ass way past Jesus
Glock 23 with a button, shot a whole fifty shots, it ain't even feel like I squeezed it
We get over on niggas, fuck even
Stepping in blood, lil' bitch, I'm bleeding
He say his miss dude then he should've drop 'em off
Made his ass take his last ride, the nigga should've walked
I'm smoking Za too, [?]
If I ever sign a deal, then I'm getting niggas bought
We riding four deep in a Black
On the way back, tryna catch us a hat
TMC down, tell they ass get back
I'm talkin' 'bout Slide 'cause his ass a pack, he should've never lacked
I heard his ass caught four to the dome
Get caught by us, you won't make it back home
Caught his ass in traffic lookin' down at his phone
Lil Pooh dissed Z, now Lil Pooh gone
