[Intro: Young Maylay & Deadly Threat]
Uh-huh (Sup?)
West sir (Young Mizzle, Deadly Threat)

[Verse 1: Young Maylay & Deadly Threat]
First thang first, I'ma set it off, bang the verse
And yank n***as by they shirts, we from the gangsta turf
West indeed, coming to contest the lead
With Tech's and vests, so hell yes, the rest should leave
Y'all think this industry weenies claimin' the set?
I'm from the streets, y'all ain't even seen gangsta yet
Tired of n***as dissin' under they breath, wanna act funny?
When you come back to Cali, we gon' tax that money
N***as over here that you payin' for favors?
Get it clear, beef with Maylay and nay can save ya
My behavior? Nothin' like pick up a pen
This the Pac-10 and we back trippin' again
Watch ya speech, n***as fresh up out the streets
Poppin' heats, while you n***as on ya couch asleep
Be a whole 'nother issue with that microphone
N***as talkin' all that big shit, [?] pistol
(Boss ya game up n***a!) And get ya wig blew

[Verse 2: Deadly Threat]
How many rappers can fuck with the masters?
How it burn, turn MCs into dust and ashes
Y'all don't want it with us, we spit fire
Wash you n***as and put you in the drier
Hold up my n***a, bitch, I'm on the phone!
We don't love 'em hoes, we love the lo-lo's
[?], khakis and chucks, and do-do
And if you wasn't with the business, then whatcha go for?
Are you ready? Team lead, n***a, roll the dice
(2005!) 9/11 poltergeist
I'm from Cali (Yeah!) to Iraq and back
Nutty, sick in the head, n***a clap in raps
CD's went platinum, we pimp slapped 'em
I'm tryna get off the block like the undercover cop
That robbed the rock from 'em
We bump at the jam like a batterin' ram
Buster ass n***as gotta scatter, scram
[Verse 3: King T]
Listen, young chump, hands up, get movin'
Not ya hot boy, better still, hot hoodlum
Set 'em up, blast right through 'em, fuck
Cut a n***a like buck, I ain't gots to shoot 'em (Haha!)
Slow burner, young king, act turner
In so many words, I committed a murder
In so many metaphors, trampled and slaughtered
Boss Up the gang, pump to swing the border (Haha!)
They roll down my block, lookin' at him
88 inches, black rims, black magnum
Black 6-4, black fire, black Phantom
A pimp got a few white hoes, black madam
Stop ya cryin' n***a, sign the line
Boss Up been my label since '95
When Dr. Dre scooped me, then the math got signed
Incorporate a n***a, that's the grind