[Verse 1]
Damn cuz, the spot's gettin' hot
So how the fu*k am I supposed to make a knot?
The Feds looking at a ni**a through a microscope
[?] West Coast everybody and they Momma sell dope
They trynna stop us
So what the fu*k can I do and make a profit?
Catch a flight to St. Louis
I got work for their ass, plus everybody knew us
We stepped off the plane
West Coast bangers, professional crack slangers
Bought us a car at wholesale
Drove to the North Side, checked in a motel
AKs, ni**a, fu*k a 3-8
'cause where we stayin' ni**as look shady
The St. Louis is a baby South Central
'cause bustin' a cap is fundamental
I'm peepin' now every block close
[?] which one will clock the most
Yeah this is the one no doubt
Bust a U cuz and let's clear these ni**as out

[Verse 2]
Now clearin* em out mean casualties
Now St. Louis got the L.A. mentality
Bust a cap and now out of there in a hurry
Wouldn't you know the gangbang here in Missouri?
A lot of fools got popped
[?]
And it's better than slangin' in the Valley
I tripled my profit makin' more than I did in Cali
Breakin' off rocks like Barney Rubble
We smokin' ni**as that don't want no trouble
And we ain't on edge when we do work
The Feds must recognize the khakis and the t-shirts
Gettin' bitches and they can't stand a 2008 Tony Montana
Money turns into war
Of gang violence, while it was never seen before
Punks whirl when the gat bust
A West Coast ni**a kickin' up dust
And all the Yorkers in the Lou lookin' up to us
Wearin' our colors and reppin' our gang, bud
Givin' up much love
Dyin' for a street that they never heard of
You know I'm from the Beach and I'm staying strong
So you know the phrase, once again it's on

[Talking]
Stop before news
Gang members from South Central Los Angeles
Which are known [?] drive-by shootings
Have emerged in East St. Louis
Leaving three deads, two others injured
No arrests have been made
Police says this is a nationwide trend
With similar incidents that occured in
Texas, Michigan, Oklahoma City, Phoenix Arizona
[?] and now New York
[Verse 3]
My homie got shot in the head and his back
St. Louis ni**as want their corner back
Shootin [?]
It's a legal biz, the ni**as still can't stick together
Motherfu*kin' Feds got the 4-1-1
About the [?] and the weed and they sellin' guns
But see we ain't thinkin' about the boys
Feudin' like the Hayfield's and McCoys
Now the shit's gettin' tricky
And now they're lookin' for the colors and the khakis
Now the spot's gettin' hot from the battle
I'm 'bout to pack up and start slangin' in Seattle
But the Feds raid about six in the morning
Try to catch a ni**a when he's yawnin'
Put the Glock to my chest as I paused
Went to jail in my motherfu*kin' drawers
Trynna give me 57 years
My face'll be full of those tattooed tears
It's the same old story and the same old ni**a stuck
And the public defender ain't givin' a fu*k
Fool must be retarded
Talkin' about a double life plea bargain
You got to deal with the Crips and Bloods if you're a real G
Ni**a holla if you feel me
I'm a East Sider that('s) hangin' on the North Side
And it's a riot if anyone of us die
On parole or probation
Now this is a young G summer vacation
No chance for rehabilitation
'cause look at the motherfu*kin' years that I'm facin'
Imma end up like this so you know wassup
My life is fu*ked
[Talking]
Yeah, when I get out Imma get right back in the money
Imma get right back to sellin' dope
Do what I do all around the motherfu*kin' neighborhood
You can't stop me motherfu*ker
You know I'm the kingpin in this shit, the connect
You know we gon' stay ballin' ni**a
And it just don't stop here
I'll be right back in the money like I said
Only got 157 years left