[Intro]
Oh, oh hell yeah
(*police sirens, car screeches*)
(Alright we don't want any problems here. Y'all just break it up) Five-0
(Just, just) Say what? (go on home)
(We don't wanna take anybody in. We don't wanna give any citations)
I ain't goin nowhere, I ain't goin nowhere
(Ahh, just, ahh, go on home and turn down that music)
Fuck that we havin fun (Turn, I want the music turned off)
Ain't nobody doin nuttin, ain't nobody doin nuttin (right now!)
[Verse 1: Treach]
From stank booties wit cooties
The finest head is hoochie's
Bunta, change your name from Kunta
Still wouldn't do that shit that you say, who play
With that hoopla hooray, who say? What? Who try?
You lie where you try you want ta see your whole damn crew fry
The moral of the story, niggas handling it
Crooked cops wanna run us out but we ain't abandoning shit
'Cause we from 1-1-8 wit a slum of crazy
Niggas wit sawn offs, tre-8's, plus nine millimeters WAIT!
You don't wanna start a riot
'Cause they won't jack shit, get quiet 'til half the fucking force is fired
Done 'em boys now dem unemployed
See them on Orange Street looking to get dope, looking to get broke, fiending in corduroy
Boy, the son of Tory, a tray hot hole
She play that model like a throttle to waddle a bottle
Stop that crooked cop shit is the topic
We're coming, fuck a summons, so long as Illtown rocks it, you can't stop it
Oh, oh hell yeah
(*police sirens, car screeches*)
(Alright we don't want any problems here. Y'all just break it up) Five-0
(Just, just) Say what? (go on home)
(We don't wanna take anybody in. We don't wanna give any citations)
I ain't goin nowhere, I ain't goin nowhere
(Ahh, just, ahh, go on home and turn down that music)
Fuck that we havin fun (Turn, I want the music turned off)
Ain't nobody doin nuttin, ain't nobody doin nuttin (right now!)
[Verse 1: Treach]
From stank booties wit cooties
The finest head is hoochie's
Bunta, change your name from Kunta
Still wouldn't do that shit that you say, who play
With that hoopla hooray, who say? What? Who try?
You lie where you try you want ta see your whole damn crew fry
The moral of the story, niggas handling it
Crooked cops wanna run us out but we ain't abandoning shit
'Cause we from 1-1-8 wit a slum of crazy
Niggas wit sawn offs, tre-8's, plus nine millimeters WAIT!
You don't wanna start a riot
'Cause they won't jack shit, get quiet 'til half the fucking force is fired
Done 'em boys now dem unemployed
See them on Orange Street looking to get dope, looking to get broke, fiending in corduroy
Boy, the son of Tory, a tray hot hole
She play that model like a throttle to waddle a bottle
Stop that crooked cop shit is the topic
We're coming, fuck a summons, so long as Illtown rocks it, you can't stop it
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