[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
[?] bad table manners
And a room with gun toaters with some bad grammar
Speady cars [?] skanner
The inside is [?] like the sleigh from Santa
Got killers filled with anticipation
Send your mind, body and soul on a trip to Satan
To conspire, get you time for ophiliation
You ain't getting money, time is what you really wasting
And they say a great mind is what can heal a nation
Do the mathimatics, my lifetime's a real equasion
Three bitches, one drop with the roof atatched
[?] you n***as so small [?]
And we super strapped
Know we shooting back
[?] black

[Chorus: Sen City]
[?] count your money, you ain't got none
[?] bottoms up
[?] money over bitches
Read the tags on the glass, we styling on these n***as
[?]
Riding on empty
You n***as riding on empty
Riding on empty
[?]
You n***as riding on empty
Riding on empty
You n***as riding on empty
[?]
[Verse 2: Mel Matrix]
[?] you don't pose a threat
We all hotheaded, push that brazy [?]
Stuntin on these n***as till they sick of me
And on my waistline is where the [?]'ll be
And the Aston four doors, we mobbin on you n***as like [?]
Sliding out the club with bout three or four hoes
They all getting gritty [?]
You know my habbits, money [?]
My lil homie trigger happy
[?]
[?] swiss cheese [?]
Throw a red rag in the air and hollar [?]
[?]
You know a thug motto forever, we screaming G's up
And [?] the morals of a life [?]
Situation real, not the [?]

[Chorus: Sen City]
[?] count your money, you ain't got none
[?] bottoms up
[?] money over bitches
Read the tags on the glass, we styling on these n***as
[?]
Riding on empty
You n***as riding on empty
Riding on empty
[?]
You n***as riding on empty
Riding on empty
You n***as riding on empty
[?]