[Intro: Aristo & Mayhem Morearty(?)]
*Phone rings*
"Yo"
"It's Aristo man, what’s good?"
"What up Aristo? What's good?"
"Yeah you remember-you remember that joint you put together, '100 Strong Arm’? Yeah man, I'm thinking about doing the video for it, man"
"You wanna do a video for '100 Strong'? The streets ain't ready for that man"
"I hear you man, but I think the streets deserve it. Shit, know what I mean?"
"Then let's make this pop"
Once again
Aristo (100 Music)
*indistinct chatter* (?)
Got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock
*indistinct chatter* (?)
DJ Wicked, what up? (What up nigga?)
It's Mayhem Morearty
[Verse 1: Califate]
I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock
With a hundred more (?) guns ready to pop
And a hunnid wild ass kids, flinging the rocks
Plugging they ears wondering when the rain'll stop
Down to die with a band of men, bless them all
Understand (?) built just to test the souls
So never fear death, let’s feel bold
Even the ones who left made bets on who’s next to go
Feel the cold of the world creeping under my skin
Time and time covered in sins, sins, and (?)
Instincts of an animals sick and gone wild
(?) mouth nigga, we kick the door down (door down)
Better hit the floor down
Here to stick up the industry bitch, it's on now
You can call me the general, head of the league
Heading to the city like a deadly disease
The (?) with killings
I’m like the part of the movie where you root for the villain
Going out shooting hoes through the roof of the building
And that's only one out of the million
Motherfuckers got a hundred storng arm niggas ready to pop
[Verse 2: Young Tony]
"DJ Wicked you a fool for putting on this track you
Yeah check"
Young T got a crazy team (what else)
A hard (?) and a crazy scheme (what else)
A fast way to make crazy C.R.E.A.M
Full clip, rubber grip, with a laser beam
'Cause on the block, I got crazy fees
So I gotta stash rock on my 80s(?) jeans
We handle beef like a navy team
Two shots will make your lady scream and call the cops up
Make her reach for her Jesus piece
You'll need a real good priest like the KC chiefs(?) (Uh-huh)
That cops’ll have to bring out mobs
A whole lot of chalk, lots of febreeze(?)
'Cause I ain't really down with that scuffle shit
I put work out, smuggle, hustle flip
Fuck around, you'll get left in the duffel zipped
Wrinkle duff(?) in the bag like Ruffles chips
I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rip
[Verse 3: Aristo]
"Yeah, Aristo nigga
Reborn Records nigga
DJ Wicked nigga
Let's go"
Niggas on the block
Lay you dog is (?), and I ain't leaving so don't hold your breath
'Cause you gone end up killing yourself like hoes (?)
Hoes (?) getting attention
Let these motherfuckin (?)
Listen homie, you (?) gettin' boring
And anytime I hear you spit your writtens, I'm snoring
Like a (?)
On the way, slow your pace, and get slapped with the iron
'Cause I'mma be around like Jesus on the crucifix
Spray around, lay you down, leave you on the news at six
Slumped over in your Rover like a crash dummy
(?) soldier that'll snatch money
And stash(?) money, turn that shit into a record label
Or be in your crib like niggas that connect to cable (yeah)
'Cause I've been doing evasions
And now I'm in the rap game to show and prove I'm amazing (uh-huh)
(You know) let your neighborhood Spiderman
Neighborhood dope man, neighborhood rider man
Better ride for family if you inside a can(?)
Lookin' like the beef or ham they find inside of spam, nigga
(?) It's a wrap nigga
[Verse 4: C4]
"Ayo, check it"
See when the heat melts, niggas get buckled down like seatbelts
Send 'em to intensive care to get rebuilt
Voice of the ghetto, speaking on behalf of (?)
With us, you stay up nights, and avoid getting pinched
You play the bench, like we in love with the pine(?)
But the difference is nigga, we in love with the grind
No I ain't lying, everything I speak is the truth
You looking at the Young Aladdin terrorizing the booth
With a hundred hungry heads that be willing to shoot
Said if I was you, I'd keep it on a fucking (?)
'Cause my name speaks for itself, I'm quick to bomb shit
Catch me strong arming niggas 'cause I'm known to let me gat blow
Rap or crack game, I'm overweight like a fatso
Looking (?) hell no, not a hustler
I don't push birds(?) more like pterodactyls
Fear the (?) most, 'cause I'm known as a rider
With niggas situated all over like Al-Queada
I oughta, put a couple holes in your face
To have you grill looking like the air intake
The difference is nigga yo ain't winning no race
And my niggas'll do anything to get that pace
(I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock)
[Verse 5: Mayhem Morearty]
"DJ Wicked what up, nigga
Check me"
It's Mayhem Morearty, a.k.a. Anarchy
No serial number on the (?)
When I flow, gangstas not in agreement
And I know, pranksters plotting and scheming
Man I know, practice cocking and squeezing
No info, 'cause rats are talk to the priest
And your hoe gagging, coughing up semen
'Cause the dough stacking to the top of the ceiling
A while ago, I was jacking, robbing, and dealing
Yeah yo, cracking pounds of the green, and (?)
And rapping, all in sequence
Mayhem Morearty, haters want to pastel chart me
Full my mug up like Maxwell coffee (?)
Good thing I got the gat held on me
With the muffler so I cal shells softly
And y'all don't want to see the punk with the shoulder strap
It's guaranteed to expose your back
I know the haters wish I was shot, wishing I was locked in jail
That's why these guns are not for sale
When I'm running, man (?) for real
Be running to the cops to tell
Hope y'all rot in hell
Y'all know what my cannons do
Fucking, shoot up, bystanders too
'Cause they be the same ones that'll rot on you
Pointing you out the box saying "that was who"?
Did it, I'm committed to commit it
When the 3030 pellets rip the brims for the from your (?)
Hustle man got niggas that'll rock your shit
[Outro]
Y'all don't even know half of my crew
Y'all don't even know half of my crew
I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock shit
Y'all don't even know half of my crew
I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock shit
Y'all don't even know half of my crew
