(Spice 1)
Yeah n***a...
Bossalini, Fetty Chico, Shiznilty
In this muthafucka with EA-Ski K n***a
I got my muthafuckin EA-Ski K n***a
Yeah...
We ain't did shit for years but here it is you punk muthafucka
You thought we wouldn't gon do it bitch
Blooaw..!!

(Spice 1)
It's like the NFL
But I don't rush the quarterback I rush the whole thang back
And I pick up another sack
Face-maskin muthafuckas but the mask we gon wear is black
And when I touch down my team pick me up in a cadillac
N***a how you love that?
Where the bud at?
Suckers never could hold a thug back
Spittin drug raps
Me and Ski we got the blood batch
Now what batch (=bitch)
N***as out there who doubt us they can suck dack (=dick)
I bust caps, snaps n***as and head back
Open the bottle of cognac, lookin for wires and phone taps
Bossalini you can't see me, n***as need to go with that
I get high and blow up with my mind lands
And land mines right between your muthafuckin eyes
In these sins of time
Extra ordinary, far from your average
I'm puttin extras on it, extra manage, extra savage, extra G's
Get your money on
M.O.B
That's money over bitches cause they breathe envy
(Chorus)
Now what?
Some n***as say we ain't doin way too much
But Spice 1 and Mr.Ski hooked the fuck back up
Now what?
Some n***as say it's time to bring the pain
So we came to put our muthafuckin dick in the game

(EA-SKI)
I cut loosin these fuckin ho's
Bitches get shooked when I hook up with my dawg
It's like that n***a
We're tryin to get phat and that's all
I got my muthafuckin mind on it
I'm bout to put my hands on it
Look out for your spot when I lands on it
Keepin it gangsta, 24-some all day shit
We're bringin it bitch, claimin it on this ol' Bay shit
I got my heat locked and I cocked it
I gotta keep these fuckin big nuts in my pocket
Look out for this muthafuckin hot Glock when I drop it
Pop it, yes I will
You ain't got shit that can stop it when it's bout to kill
Tryin to make my cash flow
Stay out my path when I roll
Tryin to ask shit to make my man swoll
Get chicked on, n***a we ain't gon fuckin around, we call to ball (that's right)
Out here doin this shit, puttin it down like a waterfall
Big dog tryin to catch one, get in my way catch one
To the gut muthafucka, now what muthafucka
(Chorus)

Artist, producer, the n***a that'll bring the heat
And make these bitches bow
Even these all-in rappers can't fuck with my style
I hit these n***as with that Mr.Ski shit
It seperates me from that fake gangsta shit
N***a I blast, musically, vocally I'm unfadeable
...A earthquake...?
Fuck that, I hit n***as with tornados and brake 'em down
Shake 'em down, lay 'em face down
Give me mine or I'ma empty out these rounds
Now what?

(Spice 1)
Extra clips, extra funds, extra cash, extra guns
This is the new millenium, many n***as packs milli guns
Trigger gots no heart, we still dump 'em in ditches
And we can soew up your spot
We leave your shit up in stitches
See this is the type of shit that hater n***as dream
Suckers wave their eyebrows, bitches turn they head
Lookin at us, sayin "Damn! Mr.Ski & Fetty Chico"
I wonder if they goin to the studio, can we go?

(Chorus)
(EA-SKI)
So now it's up
So now it's up
Now what n***a...?
Tell me...
Somebody better talk to me...
I don't hear nuthin...
Are you stuck...?
You didn't think this would happen, not...?
You'se a bitch made n***a
Yeah, you're sittin up there pissed with your eyebrows down...
Punk..!!
Hahahaha...
We're doin it like this everyday all day 2K
Spice Weezie
Mr.Skeezie
C-M-Teezie
I-M-Geezie
I'm out this bitch