[Verse 1: Joey Fatts]
Been that n***a since I was conceived
No bitch trace in my genes, my mama was a G
Known to keep a pistol tucked in my dungarees
And if a n***a try it, he gon' have to murder me
On my mama
Block hotter than Rwanda
Stashing packs in my sister's Honda
I know they heard that we serving
But if they search they won't find them
Out here grinding
With a purpose, posted up like Andrew Bynum
On the block
Ray Allen with these shots (pop-pop)
Put a n***a in a box
Dump the Glock
Where was you at? I forgot
No pistol, no case
Get out the next day
Finessing that ye'
I'm like James with that rock
Put holes in his feet, now he walking with Christ
Don't talk to these n***as, don't talk to these cops
No love for these hoes
I'm chasing this dough
Get miles with that hooptie and then to a drop
Uhhh, snitches don't live where I come from
Pussy n***as get fucked if they want some
I'm tryna get my mama out the fucking slums
So I ain't bout to settle for no fucking crumbs
[Refrain: Joey Fatts]
Bible on the bed
Pistol on the floor
Police on our head
Landlord at the door
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
Bred for the war
So I ain't settling for shit
Tell that bitch I need more (x3)
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
We was bred for the war

[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
I'm from the place where the fucking police can't go
Uhh, started from the bottom, can't reach that low
Uhh, we getting dollars out a bitch, better teach that ho
Uhh, whipping up the ice cream with some sweet yeyo
My neighbor's all on that glass dick
Tryna get high as that last hit
Got me out here selling this crack shit
Could've been a motherfucking draft pick
Like first round, jail-bound
N***as get crossed out, nailed down
Motherfuckers want a get a fade with me?
Freddie Kane go the whole 12 rounds
On my Mayweather shit
N***a tryna get Mayweather rich
FG might break a ho
But won't make a ho
But I'll let you take care of the bitch
'Fore you crack that Hen', bless the fifth
Can't a motherfucker live that test the clique
Shout out to my (?)
Motherfuck the police
N***a, we ain't scared of shit
What it be like?
[Refrain: Joey Fatts]
Bible on the bed
Pistol on the floor
Police on our head
Landlord at the door
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
Bred for the war
So I ain't settling for shit
Tell that bitch I need more (x3)
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
We was bred for the war