Flee:
Brr, Lord
Let me catch my drift, ah

Roll a big chopper
While the ride getting wiped down
The white I got right now
Will turn your wife light-brown
Fried rice and picken wings
Islam writes a different thing
Bust it on the countertop
Your moms trying to lick it clean (damn)
This that Calderón (Frank meth goth fish?)
Type shit
So much that
My friend's getting (right wrists?)
Three AM on the corner, I’ll be standing like this
On the real? You're the nail
That the hammer might hit
(Brr) We the Loyalty or Death dog, it's more than a slogan (yup)
Violate the terms, bro, your jaw’s getting broken
Y'all are party for the weekend, straws in the ocean
Hoarse coarse is the commotion
Slow pourin' up some lotion (come here lord)
Pardon a jacuzzi-shit, foggin' up some Gucci's
Need a bed and a pussy
(?? ??) enough to suit me
In the kitchen with The Butcher
Benny fixing up some cooked stuff (Lord)
Trying to kick the door, we gon' hit you while ya foot up (boom)
Bars for the high, getting charged for your lives
Quit massaging the ride, that go (??) from my side
Cause nowadays n***as getting parked by their pride
Clouthunters outfront, while the smart boy's inside
Benny:
You know I only fuck with my n***as
You know what I mean?
I don't fuck with those n***as, because those n***as’ not my n***as!
Yo, haha

Twinnies’ got my block popping (a-huh)
Album's got my stock rising
Before police state, we saved grace
Over hotpockets, uh (I fathered)
The word at the bureau (uh)
I got out free, and I’m thorough (facts)
Pushed that dope-money and ran them with
I go spoil my little girl (get at Flee n***a)
They rolled up in them Accuras
And there I was imagining
And years later them packages turned us into manufacturers (that rock)
I stand and watch paid rich-n***as go broke
They wasn't stacking it (how you do that?)
Start relaxing and got knocked with a book full of adresses (uhh)
You be with the linked kids
I be with the bosses in offices
With the big wigs (that's right)
Torture you where your bitch lives (that's right)
They say I need my head scanned
Was quiet as a dead man
Walking in and out of Def Jam
Like me and Paul best friends (hahaha)
Married the game, and split the money with the best-man (it’s your boy)
Walked up in Saxon's and spent three racks on headbands (on headbands n***a)
I don't play it sweet with these rappers
I never met, fam (who you?)
Say you used to sleep by your ratchet
Now what's a pen-pen (Brr)
Pussy (duh duh duh)
The Butcher coming n***a! Hah
Ayo Flee, you know how we do n***a (whad up my n***a)
Griselda, The Loyalty or Death (whad up my n***a)
The Mobb Up, BSF n***a
You know how this shit go n***a
Let's go