[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
Single back door, jungle brothers flow
Burner in my hand just tell me when to go
Stay away from rats, never trust a cop
You might have sold more but I'm lyrically on top
I never left the hood, I’m just not around
It's hard to be there and get your business off the ground
So I smoke a pound to the early days
Real n***as, fat ass bitches and finger waves
Educated man, from New York land
Yeah I made it in rap but that’s not all I am
I'm a cool brother and that's word to mother
I smack the fuck out of one of y'all
Blood on the wall at a live show
Yeah my n***as been on it since the locks go
Who the realest group out? How could you not know?
Anytime you hear our shit, how could you not blow?
I mean I'm strictly tryna cop those Picassos
Birds in North Carolina, Petey Pablo
El Guapo, Diablo, El Choppo
We reup again n***a when the stash low

[Verse 2: Styles P]
We was in school, we was on the block and
We was touching 8 balls but wasn't playing pool
Raised in the crack epidemic, [?]
So we thought making drug money looked cool
All I really wanted was to act [?]
With a goose with good feathers
On some new leathers and some dime bags
Drink a 40 ounce just to watch time pass
For the Dutch days n***a, get a wipe out
Never wave the white flag, never throw a white towel
From the bomb squad, all them n***as rhyme hard
Any letter scrap, get drunk and blow the tromb god
A bunch of little n***as that be running around
And they got organised, start running the town
Felt good to see 100s around, thousands around
And every time I rhyme, n***as crowding around
Yeah I'm the quiet one, the loudest around