[Intro: Styles P] & (Funkmaster Flex)
My n***as say murder I'mma murderer
I ain't even gonna second guess that shit
L.O.X n***a (Funk Flex, L.O.X, Who You Mad At?)
{Jahlil Beats, holla at me}

[Verse 1: Styles P]
Death comes in threes, you know that it’s three of us
Money I ain’t see enough, weight when im re-ing up (hahaha)
I won’t even kick it with a n***a he ain’t G enough
I let the Glock block you if you violate
Homie you a hostile, that’s a pig that don’t fly straight
Big willy shit will make a n***a eyes dilate (dilate)
Cocaine and heroin spots throughout the tri state
Bitch ass n***a bet a bullet would make you gyrate (bitch)
My homies ate whenever I ate (word)
I’m the crooked n***a, never could I fly straight (never)
Living hella proper, dinner in a helicopter (yep)
Playing Big papa, chilling with the knickerbockers
You talking business, you can talk to me
You talking bullshit, you could talk to him
Back to talking to me, you want to put a hawk in em
Food on the menu, he’s done, put a fork in him

[Chorus: Styles P] & (Jadakiss)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(Sixteen in the ratchet, tucked in the belt)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(Be sure your woman got a job if you needed the help)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(We’re just dope boy, D boy, acquiring wealth)
N***a, who you mad at? N***a, who you mad at?
N***a, who you mad at? (Me or yourself?)
[Verse 2: Sheek Louch]
Ayo, my heart is broken, this ain’t hip hop no more
This vegetables, mastered the artichokin (hahaha)
Your lame ass songs, I mastered the art of smoking (uh-huh)
Used to take a train to get pussy in Hoboken
Now I’m in that coup, we all on fire by ourselves
But we could sell to God now with the group (LOX)
Jim star razor, still got it locked in the streets
If my album was on Koch or a major (got 'em)
Rose, dutch in the dub
Jeezy for a spin, I just kill the club
You fucking with the truth, I’m nice in a booth
Thirty plus still I relate to the youth (gyeah)
I stay +Coke Boy+ fresh like French
N***as know LOX don’t mention them (what)
Wash machine, final spin, rinsing them
Wash machine, final spin, rinsing them

[Chorus: Styles P] & (Jadakiss)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(Sixteen in the ratchet, tucked in the belt)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(Be sure your woman got a job if you needed the help)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(We’re just dope boy, D boy, acquiring wealth)
N***a, who you mad at? N***a, who you mad at?
N***a, who you mad at? (Me or yourself?)
[Verse 3: Jadakiss]
Yeah, AH-HAAEEEH, uh..
When you become accustomed to winning, you know it’s not luck (uh-uh)
Google the word loyalty, L-O-X a pop up
I done fell in love with a Columbian
Now they got me running out of space to put the money in (haha)
Where I’m from, n***a ain’t eating he ain’t hungry then (uh)
You already know if they spitting I’m lungying
For the record, if he ain’t dead, it ain’t a hit
If it’s less than 1000 grams then it ain’t a brick (no)
If it ain’t got a tax ID, it ain’t legit
If a n***as asks about me, tell him I’m on my shit
Let’s get it, walk ups, drive bys, head shots, high fives
I could do the time, I just need a cell with Wi-Fi (haha)
Big hole, exit wound, shotguns, my side
Same adrenaline rush you get when you skydive (whoo)
I’mma roll something up ‘cause I wanna blow (uh)
But before I go, dog, I just wanna know
What!

[Chorus: Styles P] & (Jadakiss)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(Sixteen in the ratchet, tucked in the belt)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(Be sure your woman got a job if you needed the help)
N***a, who you mad at, me or yourself?
(We’re just dope boy, D boy, acquiring wealth)
N***a, who you mad at? N***a, who you mad at?
N***a, who you mad at? (Me or yourself?)