[Intro: Benzino]
Oh shit
Put ya middle fingers up on this one
Oh this is the one right here yo
OH we finna get real crunk up in this motherfucka man
Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz from ATL stand the fuck up (Oh yeah!)
Let's go y'all, g-g-g fuck that, fuck security yo
Compton, NY, Connecticut
Are we goin' to boast on this one? (No!)

[Verse 1: Benzino]
Y'all n***as can't deal with the fact that 'zino getting busy in the booth
I'm gangsta murmur it'll get you done
Recognize my n***as, where you gonna run?
Save yourself from judgement day
Never should've fuck with Ray
Live to die another day
These cats ain't seems what it seen
Motherfuckers don't know what a n***a really been through
Ever since my pops did time, I live in the studio rippin' rhymes
Now he out, hit 'em off, he good
He moving with his son, just like he should
Now rethinking of my n***as who be from the hood
Don't tell me what I can't to
Lost getting ran through
Fuck around kid and I'll Glock your mental
Stay fuckin' wit' ya man Benzino
Hardy on the side by the Rick Gambino
Burners on the side, that's how we be though
Taking another hit of that Sour Diesel
Stash keep a n***a ride, high all nine
Clap clap n***a run where you at?
Bust through the sunroof
N***as ain't gun proof
Fuckin' you awake cause some n***as better run too
Y'all n***as better run too, huh
Everybody wanna talk war
But when it really come down to a n***as want peace
Real n***as don't want war on the radio
Real n***as don't fight on the radio
Cock back them thangs, sit your little silly ass down, you want no drama
We lick them thangs, north from Stuy n***as didn't really want no problems
[Hook: Lil Jon]
Okay!
Bitch n***as we touch rough, we buck 'em up
And lay it down, twist the n***a, your times is up
We gangsters, killers, thugs, pimps with plenty of hoes
And when you lose bitch, that's how it goes
Bitch n***as we touch rough, we buck 'em up
And lay it down, twist the n***a, your times is up
We gangsters, killers, thugs, pimps with plenty of hoes
And when you lose bitch, that's how it goes

[Verse 2: Young Hardy]
I give you no time to run
Run up on you point blank then I fire the gun
Little homie don't think, when it gotta get it done
I put work on the corner, broad day in the sun
Too many gunshots, kids can't play where I'm from
All you hear squalay, all day when the cops come
But I'm steady there smashing the fiends
Young Hardy burned blocks like gasoline
N***as don't play with my quota
Cement feet then I drop 'em in the water
Get handgagged 'til your breath run out
Sixteen shots, you lucky that I left one out
A lot of n***as named they best, but they left one out
And they gon' mention my name from here on out
This young boy spit heroin now, I won't stop
'Til a shotgun punk, start tearin' you out, G
[Hook: Lil Jon]
Okay!
Bitch n***as we touch rough, we buck 'em up
And lay it down, twist the n***a, your times is up
We gangsters, killers, thugs, pimps with plenty of hoes
And when you lose bitch, that's how it goes
Bitch n***as we touch rough, we buck 'em up
And lay it down, twist the n***a, your times is up
We gangsters, killers, thugs, pimps with plenty of hoes
And when you lose bitch, that's how it goes