[Intro: Polo G, Justin Credible]
Ay it's time to lift off man, I got Polo G in here
Gang
Justin Credible's freestyle series
He brought the swag with him too
Real boss man
Chains is heavy, wrist is heavy
You already know
Ay man let's go crazy, this is part 3 of the trilogy tonight
On gang
Polo G, Chi-Towns in the building
We are live in Los Angeles, California
Let's take off on these motherfuckers man

[Verse: Polo G]
Pelle Pelle wheat Timbs like I'm straight out of Yonkers
I see nothin' but dead faces when I'm facin' my ganja
Bitch, you on the Northside, that's why they say I'm a monster
No old killer, Taliban, I used to hang with Osama
All I hang with us crooks, and they play with them choppers
If he a lame like Dillon Brooks, I take him straight off the roster
Sweet ass n***a, how I can tell the way of his posture
Lil' bro swingin' the stick, it's like he tryna break a piñata
N***a talkin' 'bout extortion, I won't pay him a dollar
Glock go "Baow", make his dread shake like he Flocka
'Fore a n***a play with me, better play with his momma
Pull up over here, and next he on his way to the doctor
Bitch, I'm strapped 'cause I'm from the 'Raq, city where we huntin' hats
Fienin' for my old shit, cookin' up another batch
Sprintin' to these millies, made a killin' like I'm runnin' track
Foenem get to clappin' at your head like a jumpin' jack
Know some killers livin' with no guilt, they tryna run it back
Feelin' like I'm Wilt, 'cause if they blitz, I send a hunnid a back
N***as yellin' "Free smoke", they don't send enough to match
Lotta of n***as cappers, you a rapper or another rat?
Wait until I die, gon' hit them gates like "Where my brothers at?"
Steppin' like I'm from a frat, lil' bro tryna tuck a mat
Trophy room, come and stack, hallway a hunnid plaques
Every day I'm thumbin' racks, no, I can't get a (Yeah)
These people got the nerve to try to tell me that I lost it
Standin' on my words and I never got exhausted
Get punished when I purge, I like you better in a coffin
Couldn't fight the urge to push my level to the bosses
Bezel yellow imbursed, stones cold, Steve Austin
Train a bad bitch to make her shut up when I'm talkin'
They act like Brad Pitt, make 'em step into my office
Let that MAC spit, tape yellow, red caution
Damn, time to really show 'em who I am
Get followed in real life for playin' with me on the 'Gram, n***a
I done earned stripes in the field like the Rams
I'm clutchin' this pipe while I'm turnin' the wheel in the Lamb'
Feed her hard dick, the only time I give your lady lunch
In here with the fam, rollin' deep like the Brady Bunch
They can't stop me when I score, they like "Watch the way he come"
On it like twenty-four, bitch, I can go for eighty-one (Come on)
Let's sit and talk about some real shit
Deep up in them slums, found a way to make a mill' quick
I was goin' numb, so much pain that I couldn't feel shit
Foot up in they necks, I know I make it hard to deal with, ha
[Outro]
On gang, man
Hood Poet, man, on gang
Owe a lot to y'all man
New shit on the way
New album on the way