Chorus (Fiend):

Watch me hit 'em! Watch me lit 'em!
Unh, unh
Watch me hit 'em! Watch me get 'em then my nine split 'em!

(2x)

First Verse (J-Dawg):

I done more dirt than a lil'
But still
Gotta feel for the 1-8-7
And once you get done
Then I'm on the run with a naked gun like Mr. Drebin
I'm tellin' you n***as to watch your back
I peel more caps than a jap take pictures
A n***a that be down to get wit'cha when I be livin'up off the liquor
I figure the bigger the cap
The bigger the blood stain is on the black top
I get fat props when the gat pop, as I try to close that flat top
I stick around til' you black out, hit the back route
Duckin' po-po's
One time can't identify, because I'm dressed in hoe clothes
But even Bo knows what a strap does, when I stash mine in a stash box
No weapons or witnesses drop the case or get that ass dropped
Mr. D-A, you want a replay? How the G play, with some fucked nerves
My nine strap be buckin' as I'm stalkin' through the suburbs
Can't stop what you don't understand, told you fool I'm loced out
Shoulda broke out, your life ain't worth a dime when I get smoked out
The ghetto's where I dwell, dumpin' shells up out the window
Smokin' indo, get lit and treat my homies like my kinfolk
I been loced since day one, I'm true to self and that's all
I pass you like a fastball
When it's last call for alcohol
Drink hennessey like a fish, piss me off and it's your final down
Fully automatic makin' you bitch-made n***as bow down
What I found now
Is that life ain't nothin' but time to try and come up
Wanna be round to raise my son up
Ain't about to put my gun up
Run up n***a you get done up
Blazin' a blunt, so when I come duck
Lyin' about you murdered n***as knowin' you ain't done fuck
You punk bitch