[Drag-On]
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Fuck why y'all niggas talking 'bout huh? (it's time I see you)
Get it right, you fagot niggas heard Suge Knight
Double are's the only niggas he respect and, why y'all niggas shook right?
Why y'all get on Hot 97 and, talk wit a baritone
Wit two niggas downstairs with licensed guns to take why y'all home
Scared ass niggas, you think they going take a life so they can get life [nope]
Ask Puff they ain't trying to hear that nigga
For no cake, and why y'all can get at us on Labor Day
We make stones that say ? your moms labor day
I'm in the hood so we can link up, any place you think of
Hand held don't hold prints plus I burnt the tip of my fingers
I'm a Bronx gangsta nigga, double are's hoodrat
The nigga they come get quick bitch, on this hood shit

[Cross]
Why y'all bitches think the riders a joke, well I don't play (let's go)
I blow you whole fucking shit up like Tim McVeigh
Gimme the needle, not tomorrow, but today
Cross coming why y'all better get the fuck out the way
I ain't the shit that you see that's on the top of your church
I put a bomb in your baby carriage, brick through your hearse

[Infa-Red]
Tell your CEO, don't call my CEO apologizing (sorry)
I'm at your wake in the choir standing harmonizing
It's Infa-Red the shit that be on top of the heater
The best thing in New York since Steinbrenner signed Jeter
Hold Camby sister the hostage, then send 'em a reef
So stop fronting vegetarian just scared of beef

[Eve]
Yo, hey suck my dick bitch, the way this chick spit ridiculous
Here we go again, only we on Kiss shit
We coming and you keep running
You keep claiming you the best that done it
Pussy let me see something
Fake niggas screaming "Ryde or Die"
Same niggas we run up on and make 'em cry
Outta all the camps in this game, nigga
We the champs in this game
Who kick the real shit before the fame
Fuck you fat ass, fake bad ass niggas
Still play the hood while you ride past niggas
Coward trust me, we keep it gutter
Hope you stay mad a hater 'cause you can't touch us, huh

"It's time I see you"

[Styles]
Hey yo, I ain't got a care in the world
Kidnapping your kid, maiming your mom, and airing your girl
And like, you ain't got a care in the world
I'm hopeless and numb, I can't see but I can focus my gun
And I'm down for smoking blunts to the head
My nerves is shot, my paces is short, I dump in your head
I'm the hardest nigga out you outta know it by now
I'm the nigga that they talk about going to Chao
And my name ring bells, my blade stay bloody
If you heard about me beefing dog I leave the most shells
The nigga to salute, the quickest to shoot
Holiday Styles, motherfucker, giving you pound

[Sheek]
What? Like I won't run up and break your jaw
Like they make a vest for your head to stop the 4
I'm tired of rapping, let's get the mack and send niggas on vacation
Right in front of the radio station
Motherfuckers ain't quiet til the tech go off
Arteries hitted, hawkin, they neck is shit
I'm the motherfucking hardest
I smack the shit out of any one of your artists
Whatever the label
Why y'all niggas don't want beef, why y'all want meat at the table
And I don't give a fuck, Sheek'll do life in the box
Before any of why y'all bitch niggas front on the LOX
What? Motherfuckers, see man

[Jadakiss]
Yo, If I miss your head and your neck, I'll hurt your chest
If you from the streets betrayal is worse than death
And I'm known for getting money, not known for wildin
But I'm real I could rock both phones in the island
This is how we even the bets
I kill everything you love dog, right now, even the pets
Everything got dubs on it, even the vets
50 close, then 50 wide, even the sets
Cause the bullets is like calisthenics when I'm squirting
When they start hurting, that means they working
Only way we coming is hard
Industry is like jail nigga, double are's running the yard, uh

Writer : HOLLAND, BRIAN/DOZIER, LAMONT HERBERT/HOLLAND, EDWARD, JR.
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing