[Verse 1: Slaine]

I’ve been hustling from chum, scuffling with skunks
Yeah I’m dope motherfucker, I ain’t fucking with the junk
Nah, you can get your homeboys stuffed up in the trunk
While I’m sipping on a brew and I’m puffing on a blunt
And I can get up on a plane at six am
Cause these stewardesses’ll see how sick I am
Give me so the pussy’s all up on my dick again
You’re addicted to me, come and get a fix my friend
La Coka Nostra, LCN
I’m in front of the mirror staring at myself again
I’m too far gone now, ain’t no helping him
Are you a gambler? I’ll bet you let the Celtics win
Put a rhyme on a page with the felted pen
Let my rage out the cage, punch you in the eye, welt your skin
It’s obvious I got it now, psychotic
With the narcotic recipe, some’ll let you body down

[Verse 2: Big Left]

Where I’m from we don’t play those games
Y’all know we got the smart bombs, fucker
We don’t need to aim
Surface-to-air missiles, fifty caliber pistols
Mark 29’s equipped with portable melts
Two nines, a thirty-eight, and a snub forty-five
Minus two, that’s ninety-nine ways that you can die
It’s true, La Coka official guerilla shit
Fold you up quick just like manila get
Big Left get the spot hot like drop dimes
I been dope since the day I wrote my first rhyme
You been hooked like the time you sniffed your first line
And been shook since you heard of me in ‘89
L-A plus the coka, pull out the toaster
Pop a couple off for me, hit the post, officer down
Send a couple rounds down range
Sounds strange with lead up in your brains, biatch