[Intro: Mr. Ivan & Li Wayne]
Right now we got a lil' youngsta
Lil' Doogie, from the B.G.'s
Do whatcha gotta do mane
Say whatcha gotta say mane
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit

[Verse 1: B.G.]
Shoulda killed you bitches when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talkin' bout 6th & Baronne
When the fuckin' lights on up early in the mornin'
All that muthafuckin' creepin'
Pissin' on the set when a n***a Dee, sleepin'
Pussy ass
You know you can't survive
You was creepin' through that third, you must don't know it's do or die
Now that n***a on my list
A P-Poppin' bitch no disresp-
P-Poppin' bitch no disresp-
P-Poppin', P-Poppin', P-Poppin' bitch no disrespect to the tenth
But there's a pussy in your face and they can suck and dick
Ridin' and slidin' with all that workin' and twerkin'
You can't be no "G", 'cause a "G" not down with jerkin'
Them n***as always comin' with that play
You want some real drama, why don't you bring that shit our way?
'Cause I'm a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk
Stuntin' in a concert, take it to the fuckin' trunk
Talkin' all that bullshit, talkin' all that shit on wax
Talkin' all that yak-yak, but I'ma split your Kool-Aid pack bitch
I got my pistol close at hand, this for the real, real pussies in the can
[Interlude: Mr. Ivan & Li Wayne]
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit

[Verse 2: B.G.]
Chuck fuckin' them n***as at night
They doin' bad and slangin' rhymes at the same time (Ain't lyin'!)
Now, this n***a is a muthafuckin' dick beater
Hear that con? He was a muthafuckin' cheerleader
Fuckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
I'ma leavin' ya muthafuckin' thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? 'cause oh yes, I'm comin' to getcha
And if I don't get 20 G's I'ma splitcha
I'm a murderer, server, n***a come try to test
Had to put'em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
But uh, you know you done fucked up don't cha?
Like Yella said, you mad 'cause Ca$h Money didn't want'cha
Let's move across that water strapped with that AK
They got some wannabe crips, wanna bang, go to L.A
Now you can claim, the East, North, West, or South
Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth
Them n***as be rappin', very much trippin'
Talkin' all that nonsense, slippin' talkin' bout they be Crippin'
But it's like this, watch out before you get bucked
I'm tellin' coward ass n***as to raise up, raise up, raise up
[Verse 3: B.G.]
At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that n***a to fuck wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that n***a buck quick
You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to runnin'
'Cause I'm comin', start duckin', 'cause I'm bustin', and pluckin' (Fuck it)
Chuck, you big trick, you hoe bitch
Puttin' stank hoes in apartments and shit
And ummm, them n***as who help you get the money you straight fuck 'em
When check time comes, they gets nothin', you pluck em
And y'all hoes for lettin' him take it
Hard rolled and fake it
N***as best to look like skatin'
Now back to this muthafuckin' Mystikal bitch
You wanna jump on a n***a like a morphodyke come jump on the dick
That's enough of this hoe shit on the real
If you don't spit "G" shit with skills you can't pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them n***as wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
Don't whine, n***as can't handle me not hard
I'm the bitch who came to fuck up the party
When I catch'cha I'ma kill ya don't worry
This is another part of that fuckin' true story

[Verse 4: B.G.]
Partners you bet not do no crime
Get no time and go to jail
'Cause in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you's a hoe, it's time I Iet'cha know
Y'all ain't ready for Local five, got a boot camp full of hoes
I'm gat totin', ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floatin', hot nine chambers smokin'
Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split
Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist
Now that's a shame, you reppin' just to get a name
You can't survive in this game 'cause you n***as lame
I'm ready to take it to some "G" shit, street shit
Where caps get peeled, and wigs bound to get split
I'm off Valence, ain't no doubt this B.G. ain't real
I'm bout to- *hiccup* hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel
Peel, make n***as kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground
It's time a n***a put Big Boy where the fuck they belong
Rollin' wit TEC-9 best believe it's on
Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up