(They don't get any bigger than this)
(Ain't no half-steppin')
(They don't get any bigger than this)
(Ain't no half-steppin')
(They don't get any bigger than this)
(Ain't no half-steppin')
(Til' you get to Colombia)
(Ain't no half-steppin')

[Verse 1: Richie Rich]
This one, is dedicated to the posse
The founder, the author of "N***as Just Jock Me"
The DJ Daryl, who cuts so sweet
F**k the bullsh*t, the man makes beats
The Jigga, the gee, the J, the E, the D
My road dog, the man Slick Money
415 complete, that's it
A new year's resolution, to make hits
'89, my pen and paper were taxed
But see in '90, my sh*t is comin' on wax
Money put together right, so we could use it
Talent so damn tight, we make music
Loc, a mic artist, straight sinister
DJ Daryl on the cut, the Prime Minister
The J the E the D, straight lethal
But in the 90's, he's goin' legal
Those who don't know will soon be realizin'
That the crew, is just 41Fivin'
[*DJ Daryl cuts up*]

[Verse 2: Richie Rich]
415 is the code to the Eastside
So if you're not strong, fold to the weak side
Loc's got the ammo, I ride the tank
Daryl does the cuttin' and JED packs the bank
All from the Oaktown, but different spots
Don't catch a bullet, punk, it's way hot
The stage belongs, to the crew that's on it
So think about the funk before you say that you want it
Because we came to do a show, and we do it legit
And we packed along a posse just to kill up sh*t
See, a joke is a joke, like pullin' a plug
You catch a hot one, when you're f**kin' with a thug
We don't play that sh*t, we believe in survival
But we'll cold catch a murder beef, when we're 41Fivin'

[*DJ Daryl cuts up*]
(Ain't no half-steppin')

[Verse 3: D-Loc]
Hey yo, kick back, take a seat, let a big mack
Put some muthaf**kin' game to the dope track
I don't mean to interrupt, but yo Rich
I gotta put some sh*t to this dope cut
'Cause I'm a lyricist, I'm on a risin'
Here to let 'em know I be 41Fivin'
Step up or press up, you might mess up
The program, because the Locster is fed up
I'm on a mission to give 'em what they're missin'
And tell you what you're lackin', boy, I mean business
Stupid muthaf**kas play me close, but hell no
I couldn't be touched even if you tried to bumrush
A rat pack, n***as better step back
Steppin' to the Locster, and gets jacked
That's how it is when you're f**kin' with me
But much worse when you're f**kin' with the 415 posse
I just limp like a pimp, grab my d**k
Wobble to the phone, then call up Rich
I tell him like this: "Yo, I got some funk
So page Slick Money, and meet me at the studio"
DJ Daryl's with me, with no delay
Rich pulls up with a trunk full of throwaways
We snap the clip in the nine, now the punchline
Ran up on the enemies, and started 41Fivin'
[*DJ Daryl cuts up*]

(Shot his wife and her lawyer)

[Verse 4: D-Loc]
Time to break east, I hear sirens
Man, I hate those punk police
I'm finna lounge in the cut and duck one
I popped his a**, and that was just for fun
That's what the muthaf**ka get, for playin' a role
He stepped to me, and then I ran up his a**hole
Now I got a murder beef, they can't catch me
I'm on the loose in the Oakland streets
Hustlin', and man it ain't easy
So a n***a like me gets greedy
I need all I can get, no bullsh*t
I won't stop until I feel the muthaf**kin' ???
If that mean straight killin' and jackin'
Robbin' and stealin' - well hey, that's what's happenin'
See, I don't bite the tongue for no one
I ain't lyin', I'm just 41Fivin'

[*DJ Daryl cuts up*]
(Ain't no half-steppin')
(They don't get any bigger than this)

[*DJ Daryl cuts up*]
(4) (1) (5 minutes of funk)

[Verse 5: Richie Rich]
Yo Loc, I hate police, and that's treacherous
I'm on the run too but man, they ain't catchin' us
I got too many b*t*hes in the Oakland streets
Used for hide-outs, when I sense the heat
See, a murder ain't sh*t when a brother stays packin'
Loose on the streets, gettin' his money on stackin'
Sucker wanna run up, cowards, you get popped
I'm on a rampage, and can't be stopped
And the one who tries, to the dirt he'll be divin'
'Cause Double R don't joke, when he's 41Fivin'

(These singers, man, I tell you)

[Verse 6: D-Loc]
Rich, I'm in the game, man, all about stackin'
Rollin' with the posse at night but I'm packin'
Can't turn my back for n***as tryin' to gat me up
'Cause on the real tip, I don't give a f**k
Never mind the name, just admit it
I'm a mack to the heart, so come with it
N***a, be down to astound the world
You won't be sh*t if you don't "pimp the white girl"
Sellin' dope is basically what I'm sayin
I'm comin' up, 'cause muthaf**kas keep payin'
For my product, 'cause yo, I gives a f**k about a job
Artist workin' 9 to 5 hardest
I make more in a day than you a month
You can do the same, but you're scared of the game, punk
Broke b*st*rd need to be strivin'
Like me, or 41Fivin'

(It's good to see you back again)

(You know too much to live!
- I wasn't going to saying anything!)
(I) (I wasn't going to say anything!)
(I told them nothing!)
(I) (I told them no-)
(I told them nothing)
(Please don't mind him, don't mind him, please)
(*screams, laughter*)
(It was so sick)
(Be guided by what he says)