[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
Whippin' yay at the fiend house (Whip up)
Tuck the yopper in the fiend couch (I got it)
'07, light Dutches, n***a (Huh?)
My gun game, you can't fuck with, n***a ('Kay)
Break both shins, put you on crutches, n***a (Hahahaha!)
Po-po at the door, you better flush it, n***a (Hah!)
He sold nineteen, only a bird left

[Chorus: Conway the Machine]
D's kicked his door and found it, that's his third F (That n***a down nineteen joints, mad joints)
D's kicked his door and found it, that's his third F (That's crazy)
D's kicked his door and found it, hold up

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]
Look, since 15 been a TEC shooter (Uh-huh)
Did a stretch, came home big as Lex Luger
Grilled lobster with the conch fritters (We eatin')
Griselda, bitch, who can fuck with us? (Hah!)
I'm from the city, n***as get smoked for a half a ki'
Versace specs, silk shirt on, bitch, I'm Master P (Hahahaha!)
Master kush, I done smoked about a half-a-P (I'm smokin'!)
'Bout to lock the game up and bury the master key (Uh-huh)
Had the foreign parked at my crime spot ('Kay)
Stick on the back seat if the drum pop (What's good?)
Forty-dollar ace, lyin' around block
I know I ain't shit, I even sold my mom rocks (Hahahaha!)
Free the gangstas in Clinton Max and Comstock (Free my n***as! hah, hah, hah)
Attica and Wyoming, Albion, the guys know me
Might go see my shooter buy five Rollies
Just to remind myself, it's my time, homie (Talk to 'em, n***a)
Bodies on the blicky, hit his body with this .50
Shot shotty 'til it flip him
Catch a body, then I'm probably in the Masi' doin' sixty
In Atlanta smokin' sour, ain't nobody fuckin' with me
I'm a legend in the flesh (Uh-huh), respect me like your father (Yeah)
Fuck them pussy n***as, I will hit 'em with the carbon (Brrt)
Put you on the front of a T-shirt, we murk whoever, n***a (Who want it, n***a? Hehehehe)
[Interlude: Raekwon]
Yeah, man, little n***as better be careful, man
Them little n***as out there man, playin', man
Playin' them big droles, n***a
Be careful, man, for real, man
It's Griselda life, n***a, Wu-Tang, n***a
That's right, for real
Hold a four gradually, n***a
Keep nothin' but UZIs
With motherfuckin' big potato skin on the top of it, n***a
You know what I'm sayin'?
This is real life, n***a
Don't get caught up, n***a
This is not a game, n***a, this is not a game
We will take your sneakers
Take all that bread and everything, n***a
For real, man, word up, man, word to mother, man
You know the voice, n***a
You know who it is, man, call your boss in

[Verse 3: Raekwon]
Egg shell Ss, Guess jeans on, I blow finesseness
Caught me in Texas with Nexus cards and stolen Lexuses
Me and my guest list of gun holders who blow pedestrians
Half a boat load of coke inside my jets and shit
Off like a Mexican, my best friend dipped
We run together, fuck all your next man shit
Fuck your captain, he overreacted, I'll slowly blow your back in
Catch you in traffic, the nozzle spit sporadic
We're one's fanatic, I runs the cabinet, that gun's Ben Affleck
I drag flips, get caught in the cross like Catholics
I hold a black slips, slap tricks, I mack slick
You dap dicks, clowns get found naked in black whips
And sign 'em off, he wasn't mine, he wasn't slime in Rolf's
Then this rich n***as' Drink Champs, can't buy me off
N***as is homos, and bozos, and logos ridin' Volvos
Your clothes on, your hoes is sold
You lost yo' soul
[Instrumental Outro]