[Chorus: Guru] We got underground connections, the best ones No stress son, come test son, you'll get done When you be stickin out your chest son Underground connections, the best ones Come test son, you'll get done So don't be stickin out your chest son
[Ice-T] So many thugs niggas rappin bout they saw me sellin crack again Catch me at the Hard Rock, ballin at the MGM Fuckin it all, I blow a million on craps Done spent a million on straps, so I'm heavily heated Never had a bitch on yo' dick kid, though I know you need it Mia keeps the mega hoes and hookers, you can't count the amount And kid them extra bitches in your video don't count I never lied on a record, I put that on my son If my niggas caught me frontin, they've cut out my tongue Well connected baby bitch nigga, ya can't run far My riders know where the little and the big cribs are It ain't the funds ya got, but how long ya got it It ain't the guns ya got, but how much ya shot it I'll look you deep in your eyes like I ain't never done a record Step up all on ya bitch and have the hooker butt-nekkid With the "knock-the-tooth-out-nigga", "blow-the-roof-out-nigga" "Fuck-the-cops-with-thirty-men-and-shootout-nigga" If I was as hard as you sound, I'd be stuck deep in the hole Still when I mobs in the club, I have ya tuckin ya gold Grabbin ya hoes, lookin for emergency do's Endin the shows, bodies on the disco flo's
[Chorus]
[Sonny Blade] Yo, yo As far as it go, fuck with fams, it's kilos to grams The circumstance, the way it's goin down, accordin to plan This gangsta hit, pissed off, Bacardi and shit Run the streets, bodying shit, anybody you wit Thinkin I'm Gotti and shit, fuck with anyone of them bitches you wit Pushin a six-hundred, wrist flooded with chips For those that don't know G, this nigga Sonny keeps it funky I bet my life on it, you niggas don't want it Spittin thirty-thirty, pushin J30's, you niggas ain't worthy Across the county, my Suspect niggas surround me Come off it - fuckin ya bitch, whoever's closest I know about the dru-dugs, safe behind the portrait Crazy bank, livin it up, to make an estate You ballin now, face down on the fuckin floor now Sonny Blade got this hits locked down for days I got the guns up, ready to run up startin my blaze
[Chorus]
[Older Don] Yo, Suspectz, lock down blocks, run up in spots Fuck the cops, swervin on a belt in the drop Bad bitch, rubbin my cock, one hand on the Glock And I can't stop, won't stop, until I get it get it Done shitted, called beef and dealt wit it So forget it homes, Older Don is fully blown Southbeach, buggy-eyed Jag, sittin on chrome Freaked off, like the illest porn Pour heat, quick to swarm We can get it on from dusk 'til dawn Flows hot, your's lukewarm - Flex gonna drop the bomb See the tattoos ingraved in the arm, this shit is gangsta...