Uh, I mean you ain't even gotta ask about me n***a
You just walk up to a mothafucka and they just tell you bout me n***a
Whole name ain't gotta come out your mouth, n***as already know
They have 50 cents for you

[Verse 1: Jon Connor]
Uh, look, boss shit, the code that I live by
Finally made it, every n***a in the crib by
Bad bitches, every chick up in the crib bi
You fuckin clown, I'mma show you how to live life
Uh, all this hard work done paid off
This how you live when you don't take no fuckin days off
Eyes red, studio I'm workin long shifts
You beefin over hoes, you fuckin with the wrong bitch
Yeah, real n***a chronicles
I tell the vamanos, now they fallin' like dominoes
I'm everywhere, lookin for me like tryin to find a ghost
She give me brain like this ho is on the honor roll
Real shit, my life been on some ill shit
Since Mo Cleaves told me n***a go and kill shit
So give me life for this shit I write, lock me up
Sit back and watch me, Maserati pick the bodies up

[HOOK]
I'm heavy, I'm heavy, I'm heavy in this biatch
I'm heavy, I'm heavy, I'm heavy on them hoes

I'm heavy, I'm heavy, I'm heavy in this biatch
I'm heavy, I'm heavy, I'm heavy on them hoes

So Fli-City, Fli-City, to the back, lets get it
I wake up and grind hard everyday

I'm heavy, I'm heavy, I'm heavy in this biatch
I'm heavy, I'm heavy, I'm heavy on them hoes

[Verse 2: Mistah F.A.B.]
???? on my feet, Fred Flinstone
Ridin through the Flint homes, the windows down with no tints on
They don't know me like Jon B, then I pulled up with Jon C
Went to the club and popped that Dom P, I'm a king, like ????
And everywhere I go I'm heavy, big ol chain and its heavy
Pulled up in that Chevy, movin D, rest in peace to Heavy
Money talkin, comin' quick fast
Ride so fast, give you whiplash
You ain't bout gettin money, betta go on wit your bitch ass
I round em up, round em up, bts she's down to fuck
This white girl she sees dts, says what's that, she says down to suck
Yeah, lets get it, wear a snapback with that fitted
Don't matter man, wherever man, I'm gonna represent for my city
Mistah F.A.B. up out of that Oakland
Please don't think that I'm joking
Yeah that molly got em rolling
People bust you in the open
Yeah, I fuck with shooters hired Reggie
And you don't want these problems boy, cuz you ain't rollin' heavy
[HOOK]

[Verse 3: Jon Connor]
See now, these n***as is hatin and all these hoes they be watchin
I hit my folks out in Cali they told me lets get it poppin
Lame n***as be blockin because they bitches be jockin
Killin rappers is easy cuz most these n***as is garbage
I call em son of a bitches, but I blame that on they fathers
Now every city them hoes makin it clap, they applaud us
I hope my momma forgive me, I'm hittin somebody daughter
They be looking for ballers in VIP with the starters
Shit, I'm heavy out here, they don't know what to call it
Time is money my n***a, why the fuck is you stallin?
Traded paper for plastic, shit won't fit in my wallet
Two bad bitches, ass sick, call that shit a men-nauseus
Wanna roll with the bosses, see the club where I work
So spread your legs in the office, so why the fuck is we talkin?
Me and my n***a Mistah F.A.B. grindin hard to get it
Now we livin every minute and don't know nothin different, BITCH

[HOOK]