[Intro: Young Pappy]
Everybody stay talking 'bout they wanna hear that new Young Pappy and Bang
Well, my manager he taxed for a feature, but you don't get taxed if you the gang
A headshot put a patch in his brain
I'm smoking on dead n***as, I'll match you a name
Shorty told Spazz, "I can't hang where you hang, cause you hang with Young Pappy, and he gave you that name."

[Verse 1: Bang Da Hitta]
Bitch I go crazy, bitch I got crazy!
Ready to kill, going in like thenNavy!
Whippin' the coke, like I'm bringing back slavery
My n***as they with it, they riding, no racing
They pop out the cut, like a scene up on Jason
My n***as don't run, only time, when they chasing
How cause that death flip them right on their faces
You don't rock with us? Fuck 'em then waste them

[Verse 2: Young Pappy]
Sure I got a whole lot of motherfucking shooters on my squad
Whole lotta shots, whole lotta shooters
Whole Uzis, whole lotta MACs
Whole lotta TECs, whole lotta Glocks, whole lotta Rugers
Sure I made all the shots, saying I'm a rap star
N***a's getting clapped, hell nah, we ain't losing
Toolies dress me up, hell nah, I ain't doing
N***a's know where I stay but hell nah, I ain't moving
I ain't ducking no action
When you see me, it's cracking
Nine times out of ten, I got it
You ain't no savage
You gon' make me call up Mac, tell 'em "Fuck traffic, bring out them ratchets"
I ain't never lackin'
N***as say "never say never", well bitch n***a, I ain't never lackin'
I ain't never lackin'
N***as say "never say never", well bitch n***a, I ain't never lackin'
[Verse 3: Bang Da Hitta]
For my squad, I'mma blam n***as
In broad day, go ham, n***a
It's killa season, no Cam, n***a
Get lean, like you off Xans, n***a
It's straight bars, no tams, n***a
All my n***as hundred grand, n***a
We'll pop out that van, n***a
Just spazz out, straight fan, n***a
I'm fucking up [?], tripping, my fingers is itching
My sisters is telling me n***as is [?]
Shoot with precision, you shot in the air
What you shooting at, pigeons?
You PBGK? Bitch is you tripping?
That's what turns n***as up into victims
Beat him and burn him in front of his children
Burning them up but then we were the killers

[Verse 4: Young Pappy]
I be on the Pole where it's cold at
You need like two-three coats and about four hats
I hang with Insanes, we post where the Stones at
N***a talk crazy, where his brains? Where the floor's at
I be on the Ave and the Mav where the Moes at
I don't come outside unless I ask where the poles at
Fucking with a real n***a, she don't wanna go back
Ask about a body, hell nah, I don't know that
[Verse 5: Bang Da Hitta]
Got Pap on the track, we spazzing