[Intro: Stoneda5th]
I guess I don't got no more enemies, I should've been dead
Ayy, ayy, free the jackboys, free the walking dead
Ain't gon' talk 'bout the last n***a 'cause he already stretched
Fuck the internet, bro, let's get on somethin'

[Verse 1: Stoneda5th]
Ayy, Tony Stark, cut the lights off, I think I seen somethin'
We gon' pop him up, send him to heaven if he keep on mean muggin'
Every time we get the lo', they be Forrest Gumpin'
I be really tryna up the score, but they never thuggin'
For playin' my opp, you will get popped, I'll smoke my lil' cousin
Run into an opp, he say he know my pops like that mean somethin'
She said I'm her type 'cause I got ice on, been chink bustin'
He was dissin' on the 'Gram, upped the blammer and blammed, it's repercussions
Bone breaker, so my jock ain't goin' for nothin'
They see us fightin' with a ski-ski in the function, he up to somethin'
They said they got problems, but when they see me, they don't say nothin'
I was researchin' mainy hoes for two weeks, one hit for a hundred
I scuffed my Maisons in a week when I was safe huntin'
You can't rap about slidin', you ain't slid on shit, go pop somethin'
It was me and Big Stone with two shots, behind tint, opp huntin'
I can yell out, 'Shooter Gang," 'cause I hopped off the porch and popped somethin'
Hit the road, jack
If it's suicide if they hit the block 'cause they ain't gon' make it back
There ain't no time that they spinned and I ain't spinned back
There ain't no time that they got up on me and I ain't clap back
That's on my mama's life
You better aim for the kill if you tryna earn some stripes
I'm tryna send him to heaven, heard he was scared of heights
The homie ain't even do the crime and the judge gave him life
Hardhead, make a song fast, that's what my mama told me
I ain't never gave out no passes for my lil' brodies
Put that switch on the Glock, now it's an automatic 40
Trophy tatted on my head 'cause I'm a hood trophy
He ain't good in my set, then bring him over here
That's on my brother grave, I done popped shit for every shed tear
He ain't really like dyin', he scared of the homies, say he slidin' out of fear
Can n***as get put off for not pullin' skits, like why you from over here?
[Verse 2: R3 Da Chilliman]
Walk an enemy down in designer shoes so you know who did it
Tryna stuff the chop in my pants like, "Do you think I can fit it?"
He ain't never be in the opps' citied up, that is not my homie
I be buyin' bitches Chanel bags, that's how she know me
See me on camera puttin' Rick Owens to your door
Or you see me on your block sendin' .556 to your bro
See 'em glancin' at my pieces, but I keep Glocky in my pants
Gen5 with a switch, this bitch'll change the way you stand
I pop Percs and I sip juice, I can't go a day without it
Mama knew her son was a thug when she seen choppers in her couches
If the johnnies flick the lights, me and my Crips gettin' little
He ain't respected by the shooters 'cause he be spazzin' out the window
Treat the chopper like my bitch, I just bought it some new titties
I'm a Wockhead, so I guess it's fuck my kidneys
Poured an eight, that's word to Mozzy, I can't see, I might wreck
He know my homies thirsty, he tucked the Grammys on his neck