Gassed Talley of 300, Montana of 300 & $avage of FGE

[Chorus: Talley of 300]
Pull up on them gassed, all I know is blast
Pop 'em like a tag put em in a bag
Let them trumpets blow I ain't talking jazz
Then get back to the cash all I know is racks
Pull up on them gassed, all I know is blast
Pop 'em like a tag put em in a bag
Let them trumpets blow I ain't talking jazz
Then get back to the cash all I know is racks

[Verse 1: Talley of 300]
Money on my mind, picture dollar signs
If they chuck em out its fine must been out of line
Must be out your fuckin' mind and collide with mine
You'll be with the fucking dead like you sodomize
If not now paying time like you got a fine
Find exactly where you dyin, soon as you recline
That look I see in your eye don't mean no surprise
And right before you see the dark you gone' know the light
My fuego rock his cradle
Ima light his top up just like candles on a table
Should've knew better than stepping out here in that water Fredo
Bet this pump gone em leave looking like he been hit by tomatoes
Fucking clown, nothing funny now
Touchdown on the prowl, when I come in town
Hunt em down, Gun em down with 100 rounds
Blaw its not a sound when I come around