[Intro: Sanford And Son sample]
Lamont Sanford: "They ain't comin' back."
Fred G. Sanford: "I wouldn't say that, son! They ALWAYS come back."

[Verse 1]
Don't let them boys pump gas in ya tank
And make you believe they can save ya ass 'cause they can't
So think about it 'fore you let them pass you ya shank
You don't want mama to look in ya casket and faint
These rap n***as bluffin'
16 choruses and 48 verses 'bout a whole bunch of nothin'
Half these n***as tried to get me on they record
But they couldn't, now they on they CD talkin' reckless
If you could only see the rocks in my necklace, mayne
Each one's the size of the blocks in the Tetris game
We used to walk, now it's drop top stretches, mayne
Mini bar in the whip, top notch records playin'
I'm shittin' on you with a passion
Go 'head n***a ask 'em, ya fans know I'm ten steps passed him
And now I'm back, still eatin' off my last one
Watch what you say in ya rap, son, or you'll be in the

[Chorus]
(Ground with ya n***as)
Control the n***as you run with
Don't get on that dumb shit, or you'll be in the
(Ground with ya n***as)
Don't let 'em put that battery on ya
Your family'll mourn ya, and you'll be in the
(Ground with ya n***as)
Keep my name out of ya rhymes, boy
You're out of ya mind, that shit'll get ya in the
(Ground with ya n***as)
Stop all the subliminal lines
'Til you learn to make a hit a few times
[Verse 2]
The weight of the world on my bad shoulder
Hot from Manhattan to Magnolia, I'll lay you out like a ab-roller (woo!)
Soldier, the boy rocks got all kind of glow
Black diamonds, the size of the dots on a domino (OH!)
For those I'll jump out the window, Geronimo
Neighborhood drop out, never made the honor role
You ain't gettin' nowhere, actin' prima donna hoe
'Cept for the side of the road, butt naked, out in the cold (yeah)
I been a trendsetter
A playa, man my bitch wouldn't even get out of line if I let her
'Cause I explain to her how I grind when I met her
And how I gotta roll, Glock 9 in my sweater
Stop hatin', take a look at this shit stain
If duke gettin' so much money, then where's duke chain?
N***as talk shit, but ain't none of 'em top me though
I'll be a legend in my hood, you'll be a sloppy Joe in the

[Chorus]
(Ground with ya n***as)
Control the n***as you run with
Don't get on that dumb shit, or you'll be in the
(Ground with ya n***as)
Don't let 'em put that battery on ya
Your family'll mourn ya, and you'll be in the
(Ground with ya n***as)
Keep my name out of ya rhymes, boy
You're out of ya mind, that shit'll get ya in the
(Ground with ya n***as)
Stop all the subliminal lines
'Til you learn to make a hit a few times