[Verse 1: Gudda Gudda]
Uh huh*
Young Money muhfucker
Trae I got'cha
Even if ya not listening you goin hear me
Real niggas love me and them other niggas feel me
Pourin up the purple shit puffin on the ziggy
Top down on the coupe, bitches askin who is he?
Gudda Gudda bitch the name rangin every city
Real nigga music they talk it I doos it
All about the money so the track I abuse it
Been drankin all day, I done dunked the whole cruiser
Name a nigga better, the place I'm right in front of me
I lay em face down in the street right in front of me
Gun to his back bullets coming out the front
Make examples outta niggas cause he shouldn't of never front on me
Miserable niggas and misery loves company
I keep a two neen's in the shoutgun company
Young Money, ABN that's the mob
We take it old money don't quit'cha day job
Nigga!

[Verse 2: Trae Tha Truth]
Tippin inside some hood shit, beating my life away
Four in the morning thuggin can't get seen in the light of day
Terrorizing the city tell em I got the right of way
A nigga jump outta place and I collect with a righter way
This burner like the trip it might end up taking yo waist off
So bullets show direction like Wayne blowing yo face off
They throw and hit your block with this chopper and fuck ya place off
Have a ticket to the district attorney to blow the case off
I'm on this street shit, riding like a renegade
Wrist something refresher stones same color lemonade
You be stupid to think to run up on me
Bitch I got niggas bigger than Shaq outta dressing me as they big homie
Neither of them Asshole niggas I know you heard about em
And even on this 6 foot 6 won't get a word about em
Bitch I'm above my cash, money like Dwayne Carter
ABN and Young Money damn it ain't a team harder
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