[Styles Paniro]
Yo, yo, I could keep my eyes closed still reading the signs
Young n****s think they hungry then you feed 'em a nine
Might kidnap they a**, start feedin' 'em swine
So I don't feel bad when I gut 'em like a pig
Beat him down, stomp him out, cut him like he big
You hear the attitude; I say f*** being humble
You act like a animal; you stuck in the jungle
N****s don't care if I'm poor or rich
So I don't care about these n****s, and the law, and s***
And I'll probably get shot for being a wild n****
You'll probably get shot for being a foul n****
Let's talk about slugs and the drugs we deal
Boys fight, men kill, get they money and chill
Real recognize real; I ain't sayin' a word
Doin eighty in the M - that means I'm stayin' in third
With a b**** playin' shottie AK in the third

[Sheek Louch]
Don't worry 'bout what I make; worry 'bout can you escape
'Cause when I bust my guns, bring more action than roll take
Nickel your hallway, I got aim from far
Y'all can't see me like the tints on the president's car
I know n****s don't like me, and my friends want to flip
That's why I'm on some extra all about Sheek s***
Your money: Sheek s***
Your b****: Sheek s***
Only thing I'm gonna share is these bullets here
B**** a** that's for frontin'
Now don't say I never gave you nothin'
I'm greedy; go 'head, don't say I never saved you somethin'
Pack gun n**** but don't want no stack
I drink straight liquor till I forget where I'm at
I don't play no games, n****, drugs my 'cupation
In a building hustlin' - that's Sheek's Playstation
Motherf***ers want to ride by and ice grill
Change that to ice, dick
Show me, motherf***er, that you can kill

[Chours]
Seventeen shots in a clip, twenty-eight grams in an ounce
Everybody bounce, twenty-six inch hues on a truck
Thirty-six O's in a key, everybody free
Murder One felons with the glocks, twenty-four hours on the block
Bodies gettin' dropped, five thousand n****s actin' live
Five thousand n****s gotta die; everybody better ride

[Jadakiss]
Y'all n****s better find out who's your man
It don't work in the hood; you could fool your fans
Few bullets in your jeans soon to ruin your plans
Then I show up at the wake and boo-hoo at your fam
If you're like me, you never'll fail
Live by the three rules you make it, or be dead, or in jail
And I ain't really got much, but I'm up on cats
And Kiss don't just spit, I throw up on tracks
Double R now, b****; you see the princess cut
I'm in a two thousand big boy; the tense is up
Y'all n****s is soft; catch me with the semi
Underneath the Fendi, sweater, skully, and scarf
Make sure you don't say nothing to Jay
And keep your dirt; I don't smoke nothin' but hays
I'm a do this the old way; get it while I can get it
As much as I can get, then I'm a go my own way

[Drag-On]
Aiyyo, I keep my guns like laundry
I dump a load, make n****s fold, watch 'em die, and let 'em drip dry
Gon' spill pints from n****s; my rapid fire put n****s in black attire
Stuffed in the hearse, then dumped in the dirt
I live eternal, 'cause if Drag pa** away
I'm a come back with wraps on my face, blastin' an eighth
February eighth - that's the day
You better cop like it's crack, or get masking taped till you suffocate
B****es, y'all gettin' your feelings hurt
Two thousand, I ain't f***in' no more
I'm makin' b****es jerk till I squirt
All my b****es work, like upside down from the poles
Lift that skirt, give this dick what it's worth
Double R, see the icicles on the chest
Hungry n****s come snatchin'
I throw bullets; run catch 'em
Ruff Ryder scene Drag the fire
But we could take it swingin' them irons till the bangs is flyin'

[Chorus x 2]

Writer : Smalls, Mel Jason / Phillips, Jason T / Jacobs, Sean D / Angelo, Brian / Styles, David
Copyright : Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMI Music Publishing