[Verse I: Blu]
I got the po's looking for me like I ain't no g
Fiends looking for me like I'm baking them o's
I got, hoes looking for me cause my pea that sweet
Streets on lock without the keys for the lows
I'm on the block with the pillow, sleeping on 'em
I came up with the brillo
Rough times, now we shinning a shit load
Kiss toes, pose like a king and I'm just a gizmo
Nobody ya should know, the shotti's in the window
Pane, stain the planet, pomegranate me my grip on
My own .38 I inherited 'cause they ain't ship those
N***as got mixed emotions, bitches be sticking with em
It's pitiful, ha, hostility hospitable cock pop
Drop 'em like a soft top n***a should just roll
I know bitches who practice clapping pistols, blah

[Verse II: Bubb Watts]
I'm from the block I rock 501's
Where n***as drop the rock when the 5-0 come
It's life, on the street, gotta eat stomach growling
Money piling, bitches is foulin', n***as wildin'
It's been a while, man, but I'm back
Back at it like crack, I got habits, I guess I'm a crack addict
Focused on getting this bread, my mathematics
Got me going crazy on the ave, I gotta have it
You talking to a n***a ain't have shit
That's why I take what I want, I ain't asking
Ski mask fastening, get that cash, step off laughing
B's a OG, I got white like aspen
I'll get a n***a popped like aspirin
Seat belt fastening, keep on smashing for all my n***as
Its Bubb Watts from the block, don't make me call my n***as
[Verse III: Swheatpee]
Fist full of dollars, 387 hollows
Let me know if it's a problem the solution's in my closet
Got my .22 pistol and my .22 rifle
'Cause 500 rounds cost less than the bible
Have him running like a cheetah
He gone need some new addidas
Cut 'em like a pizza, have'm singing like Aretha
We gone need an alibi to memorize the lies
Or try to catch him slipping', buying blunts up on the other side
My 20 gauge'll lay 'em flat, chest shock 'em out the back
Go old school on 'em, brass knuckle up his fitted cap
Signal with the flare gun or chirp me on the burnout
Throw him in the back seat, go 80 make 'em get out
Loud mouth, duck tape him, pay backs a clip
He wanna be He-Man, but really he Heathcliff
If he call me a song, hollow tips shatter bones
He be laying next to cones right in front of his home

[Verse IV: Lil Stoney]
Life as a felon
My trials and tribulations market me strong
I'm pushing through like Noah's arc in the storm
I live fast like a meth addict
100 miles per hour on a one way against traffic
Savage habits, ya weak stomach could never grasp it
Uneducated scholars with no pot to piss in
But they always so full of vision
Ya talk slick, yea I'm coming to slay ya
And when my gun bust, you catch bullets like football players
I bring drama like a soap opera
I got a lot of jewelry but my favorite piece is chrome and copper
Proven fact if I feed you this fire
My bars chopped and diced with more flavor than pico de gallo
I flow brutal like two shots to head
That's why ya flow ain't right, kinda like white boys with dreads
Even haters can't deny that I'm nice
Gotta be grimy to receive my flow, kinda like headlights
Spent all this time building ya buzz
And then you get to the big times and choke like Kimbo Slice
All these rappers claiming they don't write
Oh now I get it, I understand why they songs ain't tight
Ya metaphors and punchlines ain't up to par
Better work on ya cadence boy, step up ya bars
Ya aura outdated and ya style is tired
Producers and ya engineer should've been fired
Talk greasy get ya jaw wired
All these gangsters singing, remind me of a jail house choir
Where my phone I'm bout to call my n***a
I'm 'bout to call my n***a