[JED]
N***a what's up
What?
What's yo muthafuckin' problem?
- Better than sayin' jack
They let me go
Yo muthafucka, I don't wanna hear that weak shit
- N***a what?
Fuck that, I don't wanna hear that weak shit
You old rat-infested goverment informant cheese-eatin' ass son of a bitch!
You better have your vest on 'cause you 'bout to come up short
"No!" (*shots*)

[Verse 1: Richie Rich]
Caught a brother one day gettin' out of a cop car
I know there's more to come, but the few that have so far
Talked to police about more than a court date
They're victims of a certain situation I'll illustrate
Day-to-day pigeons poppin' all that junk
About the dollars they makin', a half a ki in the trunk
Mobile phone in his lap and ten cars in the shop
Sellin' more than coke, and side orders of hop
But there's a catch to that, the boy wasn't prepared
He caught a case on a humbug, now he's scared
No more hangin' with the fellas drinkin' gin and juice
He's in a situation now where he can't be loose
Everybody wears jailies, and sleeps on bunks
And it's easy to tell, the men from the punks
So the ones who rhyme but run they mouths like bitches
Once they hit the bullpen, they turn snitches
[JED]
That's why I don't fuck with these old soft ass n***as
Out here runnin' round here like they 187 artists
Killers don't talk!
And these hoes supposed to be high roller ass n***as?
Ain't that a bitch!
Everytime I look around instead of stickin' to the rules of the game
They let circus asses makin' decisions for themselves
[Richie Rich]
Yeah, it's hard times, Young JED
But it goes a little somethin' like this:

[Verse 2: Richie Rich]
The game is hard as wood, the macks don't splinter
But yet and still trick-ass n***as wanna enter
And with ballot in hand, they rush to vote
To elect themselves into this game of dope
But yo bro, the situation is real
Don't slip in this game, on a banana peel
There's a lot of brothers runnin' around pluckin' collars
Stuck up due to the fact they've got dollars
Most of them punks, gettin' marked by young bitches
Put in the county, and the punks turn snitches
Given a alias, now he's set free
Or offered his job to be an f-e-d
I don't understand how a brother could turn
His cheek on another, homie, when will ya learn?
The talkin' to cops, makes it ten times worse
But they keep on talkin', verse after verse
Why do brothers wanna hop in this game?
Runnin' around, they don't know the main frame
And when they're caught, they get to talkin' like Polly
But they don't want a cracker, just bumpin' 'em, snitchin'
You know what I mean?
Now it's the high rollers and not the fiends
Take off the Rolex, and park all the cars
You just a punk, yeah, you know who you are
Why did you get in the game, if you wasn't equipped?
So what you're havin' money and your car is whipped?
Keep talkin' to police, then you're gonna get ???
'Cause you'se a punk in a city of players, you'se a stupid muthafucka
[JED]
Double R..
What's up with these old broke, bus ticket-type ass bitches out here, huh?
Always tryin' to get with a n***a with some mail..
They need to get a muthafuckin' j-o-b..
Quit blowin' up these n***as' beepers
Old stankin' ass muthafuckin' bitches..
Here's somethin' I wanna tell all you hoes:
Fuck you!

[Verse 3: Richie Rich]
Man, these hoes in the Town ain't shit
Can't fuck with a n***a, unless he's rich
Sportin' gold ones, man, tryin' to make that mail
Hoe mopin' and hopin' that you would treat her to nails
Hoe, I can't treat, nah, nah, it's '89
Back in '87, when I was stuck to the grind
Money flowin' like a river but hoe, I'm not trickin'
My Zapco's hittin' so hard, the light's clippin'
Girls on the bus stop, all of them coppin' a plea
To get with the man who slangs d
Whether ridin' a 'Stang, or a rag top Beamer
The h-o's want to get, with who's cleaner
So boys from the O, all of those who make riches
What do we do? Dog bitches
Knockin' and sockin', is a everyday thing
The turfs and the side show, is where the boys hang
Hoe on jock for a brother with a fade
Some zeniths, some vogues and the boy's got it made
As she makes the block, with a baby in a stroller
Her only destination: to find a high roller
But hoe get real, run and go get a job
'Cause if I ever come to snatch ya, I be ridin' a mob
(*horn honked*)
[woman]
Who is that?
[Richie Rich]
It's me, come on..
[woman]
Ah-ah, I didn't recognize you in that shit..
Where your Mustang?
[Richie Rich]
Ain't that about a bitch?
These hoes out here think n***as gon' taxi 'em around on gold ones?
Nah-nah, it's 1990, y'all hoes better get woke to these muthafuckin' old schools
Bitch, jump in the bucket..
[woman]
The door don't open..
[JED]
Double R, fuck that hoe!
Tell her make like the muthafuckin' Duke boys and crawl through the muthafuckin' window

(Snitches) (snitches) [fades]
(Bitches) (bitches) [fades]