Watch out for your friends
Ayo ayo you you you got that thing for me huh?
You thought I was layin'? no no I ain't layin' I'm takin'
You don't understand? You confused?
How bout if I stuff your fuckin' head through that window
That would unconfuse you right?
Thought I was layin' give me the fuckin' money come on
I'm blamin' lame ass rappers frontin for famin'
I should open up a casino for all the games you playin'
I'm sayin', everyday in a different namin'
Plus they homos now, big black niggas flamin'
We stressin', that you don't be stressi' us
And if you GS and GS than don't be B.S' us
Not like that we be guessin'
Because the truth need no modesty
Cristal to spring water, Bacardi whateva
What it is, is what it is
You know how the game goes
But still love is love fuckin' the same hoes
Against the grain goes the souped up rapper
So now we gotta get wit him
Frightenin', while his men cling
It all ends with, all of his mens hit
And now our future friends shit
But that's the life we livin'
Drivin', that's how we driven
Strivin, you must be robin
Now when we bless this with precise shit
I see ya overly concernin'
Mad at the fact Sauce is earin'
With more niggas than Mark Furman
Ya never learnin, never been so determined
Not to be concerned with ya sermon
Wheels of fortune still turnin'
Still street caviar remains untouched
For Sauce Money cheeseburger deluxe
Screamin' what the ******(crooks?) feenin'
Fake crews and units is dubbin
Get ya whole clan wiped out, no scrubbin'
For the decription givin, chapstick flappin'
Pistol whipin', nigga rappin'
Sell arms to keep 'em clappin'
Gung ho chicks spueeze for me
Crazy g's for me, to see cheese come easily for me
Ain't gotta state his name, you seen us
Comparin' thumbs, tryin' to see who's the greenest
No relief pitcher off my tongue
Ace of the staff, Sauce back to back Cy Young
Listen to all my niggas hit
Bitches love me for this disrespectful shit
Fuck em, the only thing I'm with is large amounts,
Money the only thing that counts here
By any means like Malcolm
X marks the spot you know the outcome
Rap star, hit the stage dipped in tar
Can't fuck with this concerto
Screw your pieces, fuck you thesis
Fuck your speeches, and fuck your beef
'Cause when my crew aim, do more than brush ya teeth
It'll split your shit, when it hit your shit
If you don't want yo' shit hit
We aimin' all niggas to Allah
And to the nazarine if ya 85 percent
Ameretta, colada for my bitch in the back