[Verse 1: Mr. 3-2]
These cupcake n***as is fly and they phony
Out here talking bout it, but ain’t having no money
Can't take nothing from me, cause my ammo cocked
And the top let down, when I let loose shots
Hop out Gucci down, Mauri on my toes
I get money homeboy, even after the show
Half nuts, half cash, yea I stay bossed up
Stay loyal to the game, that's how I came up
OG in the hood, but I gotta stay in traffic
Lay fuck boys down with the semi-automatics
Lost so many boys to the crooked concrete
Real from A to Z, riding dirty, pack heat
The weak ass n***as, fly and phony
I keep a pocket full of big faces, stacks lil homie
It's death before dishonor, and M.O.B
From that Southside playa, Mr. G-O-V

[Chorus: Z-Ro & Trae]
Lost so many homies in these streets
Sometimes I feel like I can't go on
But I'm still out here, rolling on chrome
If you disrespect me, off with your dome

Death before dishonor in these streets
So if you give up information up to the people, you so wrong
That's why them Guerillas gonna be in your home
Bitch y’all know y’all ain't nothing but clones
[Verse 2: Mike D]
I feel if I had a dollar for every time I took a loss
I'd be somewhere downtown in a million dollar loft
Ain't nobody better to tell ya how it feel to have the world in your hands
And watch it all slip away mann
We lost Pat back in 98, I ain’t recovered yet
Corey Blount, I swear to God, realest n***a I ever met
It ain’t right, he doing life behind another n***a talking
And who the fuck would think that we'd lose both Hawkins
Big Hawk, big bro, I don't think you really know
How much a n***a missing ya, I love ya bro
And I can 'em back to the early 90's
Verlin Hill, Norvell, and D Hines and
Real n***as, facing that fed time
And you ain't hear them n***as squeal, not one time
??? got 50 behind a Suave House rap
Got an appeal, I watched the Law give that 50 right back

[Chorus: Z-Ro & Trae]
Lost so many homies in these streets
Sometimes I feel like I can't go on
But I'm still out here, rolling on chrome
If you disrespect me, off with your dome

Death before dishonor in these streets
So if you give up information up to the people, you so wrong
That's why them Guerillas gonna be in your home
Bitch y’all know y’all ain't nothing but clones
[Verse 3: Z-Ro]
You ain’t gotta stay, bitch you can just leave
Cause I can do bad by myself, get cash by myself
I really don't need nobody round me
Shit
My attitude is fucked up homie I'll admit it
Don't keep asking me for a picture, my n***a you better quit it
Or get the business
Ima asshole by nature for real
Not trying to sell y’all an image, bitch this is how I really feel
When I said, "Fuck you bitch," that's what I met
And if I go wit that
Who that, wanna do that
Like run up on a n***a, that'll bust and make the crowd move back
Its death before dishonor but to some n***as that just a phrase
Cause they play with the packing and put it back
Thats why your people ain’t been fucking with you
Cause you under investigation
Not by the law, by the whole real n***a nation
You can help a motherfucker 7 times
The one time you don't help them, you the victim of a crime

[Chorus: Z-Ro & Trae]
Lost so many homies in these streets
Sometimes I feel like I can't go on
But I'm still out here, rolling on chrome
If you disrespect me, off with your dome
Death before dishonor in these streets
So if you give up information up to the people, you so wrong
That's why them Guerillas gonna be in your home
Bitch y’all know y’all ain't nothing but clones