[Intro: Klass Murda]
Bitch, TRUST, TRUST Gang! Ha, Spesh, what up? What up? Woo!

[Verse 1: Klass Murda]
Uh, I ain't ever think that we would, make it off of reefer (Woo)
Got a plug downtown and one, way in Catalina, uh (What up?)
Showed my man the blueprint, and made him a believer, uh
And my plug look like, he related to Selena (Haha)
Your weed smell like shit, and not a soul want it (What?)
My weed KRS-One, it got a nose on it, uh (Woo)
You speakin’ to the big ape (ayo), could turn you to a big plate (Ayo)
I got shooters from Cayuga, to Midstate
And got shooters in the street (woo), dumpin’ out the Jeep Cherokee (Brrr)
If the n***a don’t die, he gon’ need therapy
I just bought a new 40, I grip it and hit him with it (Boom)
When I’m done it “click, click”, like picturеs on prison visits (Woo)
Real dope boy, my whole town know
Part-timе rapper, they still tryna steal my sound though, it’s Murda

[Verse 2: Ransom]
They say I’m a gift from God but possessed by a dark energy (Say your prayers, n***a)
A dull blade can always be sharpened by smart enemies (Let's go)
A hundred arms like large centipedes, dark tendencies (Yeah)
Every clip I got for the game is like Bob Menery’s
Breakin’ down these plays in a vulgar fashion, you tryna box?
Shit, you ain’t gotta wait for no lull in action, I come relax him (Blah)
Body drop, your focus is leavin’, n***a, no one distract him
One attraction, money and murder, that was my hunger passion
Now it’s money deals with my Jewish lawyer (Uhuh)
Champagne under my chandelier in my newest foyer (Hahahaha)
Look in the eyes of your closest friends and see who was for ya
Now look in the eyes of them same friends and see who destroys ya, damn
Get paid handsomely but actually ugly
Don’t smile when you shakin’ my hand (nah), don’t ever laugh when you hug me (Nah)
I know the cut of your jib, don’t gotta ask if you love me
This fifth’ll crush up your ribs and blow off half of your skully, it’s Duffel
[Verse 3: Che Noir]
Yo, the price of fame, I fill these mics with pain, redefine the game
The art of war, don’t need a knife or gun, when your mind’s the blade
My life a maze, I come from a city full of crime and pain
A bunch of n***as, playin’ dice or spades, twistin’ microbraids
Top five and if these n***as sleep, they sleep inside a grave
A sniper’s aim, trigger pull, a bullet land inside his brain
The paramedics, searchin’ for a pulse, but they can’t find a vein
His family stressed, whisper silent pray, scream and cry his name
Look, they put a Black person for sale
Use churches and tell, that the Man we worship is pale
If you could read, that’s why they murdered the males
Now it’s ironic how these n***as catch a sentence, ‘fore they learn how to spell
We sittin’ courtside, I don’t watch the Lakers from a skybox
Road to riches most n***as crash, 'cause of blind spots
Pen game cold, invest my figures and I buy stock
My drip game cold, could squeeze a river from a eye drop, n***a