[Verse 1: MC Ren]
N***as in the hood lookin at me crazy
Telling n***as that they wanna fuck my old lady
Same fucking shit every day at 8 o'clock
N***a start my day off raisin off the cock
I throw the khakis on, with the t-shirt
Never knowin when a n***a might hit the dirt
I'm thinking, how in the fuck can I get high quicker
Mix the blunt with some muthafuckin malt liquor
These n***as that I love, I don't trust them
But I stay close to them - In case I gotta do them
We from the same set, but that don't mean shit no more
I be premeditatin with the .44 (.44)
My hoe be tellin a n***a to peel they caps back
Cause I know where them n***as hide they shit at
Shit be on my mind, return a shot call
Broke as fuck, it's about to get hot, y'all

[Hook: Bigg Rocc]
N***as starving while you're home with the mills
N***as killing while you're doin dope deals
Out flossing, throwing 100 $ bills
Time to set yo ass up for the kill
Death of a shot caller, who can you trust?
It might be your number one n***a that bust
A cap, he's the next one to take charge
Smoke him and his bitch in his backyard

[Verse 2: MC Ren]
A n***a sitting on the curb
Here that n***a come bumping with the suburb
Got my n***as on point, same n***as he be fuckin hoes with
And rolling up the blunts when he wanna get lit
Homie, when that n***a put the mutahfucka in park
That's the signal, little n***a, pump three in his heart
Don't feel shit, cause it's real shit, he a bitch
N***as in the hood doing bad while he getting rich
Off this shit we be killing n***as for
Can't make a move unless this muthafucka say so
N***a, fuck that, I'm running this shit
I'mma look him in his eyes when his punk-ass getting hit
But if you miss, n***a, I'mma kill you
Cause if he get away, muthafucka, then we all through
Fuck three shots, n***a, add two
And handle what the fuck you gotta do
Kill the shot caller

[Interlude]
Man, you know we been smoking n***as for this muthafucka
This n***a ain't paid us shit, man
(I know, dog)
Hold up, hold up, hold up, dog
Man, gimme the gat, I - damn
Hey n***a, you got my muthafucking money?
N***a, fuck yo money, n***a
No n***a, fuck you
( *shots* )
Oh shit, oh shit...
Damn!

[Verse 3: Tha Chill]
These OG's got me twisted like twizzler
Got me heated and hot, and all I'm thinkin is killin ya
Peelin ya cap back, like Starter, fool
I'm comin to get you n***as off my block, so I pack a full
Glock with big slugs, and you know I buck no doubs
Cause you know a n***a steelo, how I did them fools a week ago
One week passed, I'm hearin you wanna wet us
When you see Ren, Rocc, Tha Chill, you're puttin on the jetters
What the fuck? These n***as tryin to bust on me?
So I'm cockin up the can and ready to make them do some gas
And do some flippin, and all that
Cause n***as out here shot call, get they ass jacked
And that's the main fact, big payback for you punk muthafucks
Disrespectin the crew, it's mandatory that I buck
Ass down from Comptown, Mr. Shot Caller
Gonna be a fast faller if he ain't a fast talker
Fast walker, or better yet better be a fast runner
Chill on the scope with the cannon, finna gun ya
Dumpin 9 to the gut like "N***a, what?"
This ol' BG big baller, fuck the muthafuckin shot caller

[Hook: Bigg Rocc]
N***as starving while you're home with the mills
N***as killing while you're doin dope deals
Out flossing, throwing 100 $ bills
Time to set yo ass up for the kill
Death of a shot caller, who can you trust?
It might be your number 1 n***a that bust
A cap, he's the next one to take charge
Smoke him and his bitch in his backyard