[Intro: Yak Gotti & Lil Duke]
Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh, uh, uh
We bomin'
Yeah (We comin')
Yeah, know we bomin'
Yak Gotti, we bomin', yeah
Fifties, hundreds
Rounds, choppers, who want it? (Who want it?)
That's my n***a, that's my n***a
Lay you down, mess with rounds they will (Kill him)

[Verse 1: Yak Gotti]
I got the recipe
Broke ass n***a can't stand next to me, n***a
Choppas look like on a elephant, n***a
No limit to this shit like Master P, n***a
They're not just booted up
You stupid fuck, you lose your life, I gives a motherfuck
Jump out that fucking truck
I dare you to try your luck
I'ma shoot, that's understood
I'm with Duke, that's my fuckin' lil' woadie

[Verse 2: Lil Duke]
Running with choppers, you know that we in it
As soon as they printed, you know we go get it
I am not from no New England, but I'm a Patriot
Lil' n***a, you know that we hit it
Been jumped off the porch and I ran through the finish
Line, I ain't lying
Bringing a twelve and I'm jumping the fence
They catch me down bad and you know I'm gon blast
When I take Molly, I feel like the man
Drink on the drink 'til I fall asleep
Wake up and do the same shit again
[Verse 3: MPA Wicced]
Duke and Yak [?] or something
Forty Glock got a thirty on it
This sixteen hit from block away
Knock him off for a block of yay'
I'm an asshole just like Uncle Trae
Pouring Lean in the Faygo 'cause I think shit hit some Pompeii
You know Cody coming, Andale
Keep drugs and he never late
Pop a Xan with no [?]
Chopper 'cause a scene, non-rated
Shoot that n***a if he living crazy
I ain't spare shit, this an expiration
Middle finger to whoever hating
When it come to that war, pussy n***a, it's no limitation

[Verse 4: Yak Gotti]
In this bitch with Wicced, I'm so fucking wicked
I'm so fuckin' gifted, do you fucking hear me?
Do you underdig it? Fuck the recognition
Fuck the next decision, you gon' forever feel it
And no mass arrest, we got hella bags
Pullin' up like the Taliban
Man down, white chalk the man
Another body [?] on the 'Gram
[Verse 5: Lil Duke]
I am so arrogant, I am not average
Pull up with choppers, you know that we airing 'em
I run with gorillas, we come from the jungle
Keep me a thirty clip, you know it's on
You know when it come out, it ain't nothin' to talk about
Fuck a recession, get him in and move him out
With all of these pounds, we don't need no scale
We stand on the block and we screaming, "Fuck twelve"

[Verse 6: MPA Wicced]
Squad play with drums like Travis Barker
Doin' dirty work in the Charger
Got a shot just like Tony Parker
Kill a opp, bite, no barking
I'm a drug dealer, not an artist
Yeah, I'm in the trenches [?]
Shoulder strap on the AK
Make a n***a run a relay
I ain't riot in this toupee
Fuck with the real, not the fake
Fuck them bitches, gotta paper chase
Yeah, we coming out the damn parade
I don't run super deep, n***a
It's just me and my pistol, n***a
Kill you and whoever came with you
Young n***a been 'bout his issue