[Intro]
Yo man fuck them niggas man
Fuckin' fake ass rappin' a, yo check this shit out son
[Verse]
Yo, yo, yo, yo, ayo
Now nigga you can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and hide
Either way you go against me, you still gon' die
I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef
You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief
I need a drop for when it's a hot, Hummer for when it's cold
An ill attorney's in my corner when these fake niggas fold
Shit I kick fuck wit niggas mentally, makes 'em wanna mention me
And see me doin' a quarter century in the penitentiary
Nastradamus predicted 50's the future, that's a fact money
I run up on your workers with the mac, like where that pack money
I'ma tell ya'll what Papi told me
I got what you need, (19) 35 a ki
I stay catchin' a stunt, frontin' in somethin' mean
And I clap any nigga for the right amount of cream
Run up on them all wit the same problem solver
Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver
Buck got me out my bed to kick this shit
Now y'all niggas know fo sho I'm gon' spit this shit
Got that marijuana persona, say whateva I wanna
Bring it to any nigga or bitch that want drama
Yo them Staten Island niggas still puffin' them dust blunts
Country motherfuckers, still rockin' them gold fronts
Niggas out in Cali still wearin' them [?] Jamaican niggas still puttin' designs in they fuckin' hair
Heard Ghost album them niggas talkin' that dumb shit duke
I got a shell for every dust-head you run wit, what
Yo man fuck them niggas man
Fuckin' fake ass rappin' a, yo check this shit out son
[Verse]
Yo, yo, yo, yo, ayo
Now nigga you can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and hide
Either way you go against me, you still gon' die
I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef
You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief
I need a drop for when it's a hot, Hummer for when it's cold
An ill attorney's in my corner when these fake niggas fold
Shit I kick fuck wit niggas mentally, makes 'em wanna mention me
And see me doin' a quarter century in the penitentiary
Nastradamus predicted 50's the future, that's a fact money
I run up on your workers with the mac, like where that pack money
I'ma tell ya'll what Papi told me
I got what you need, (19) 35 a ki
I stay catchin' a stunt, frontin' in somethin' mean
And I clap any nigga for the right amount of cream
Run up on them all wit the same problem solver
Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver
Buck got me out my bed to kick this shit
Now y'all niggas know fo sho I'm gon' spit this shit
Got that marijuana persona, say whateva I wanna
Bring it to any nigga or bitch that want drama
Yo them Staten Island niggas still puffin' them dust blunts
Country motherfuckers, still rockin' them gold fronts
Niggas out in Cali still wearin' them [?] Jamaican niggas still puttin' designs in they fuckin' hair
Heard Ghost album them niggas talkin' that dumb shit duke
I got a shell for every dust-head you run wit, what
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