Na na na na I say fight you holler a quarter day late A dollar short, poppin' more corks and niggas don't get Ya collared court, trife ass Whitney will you motherfuckin' mouth, aight And change your life, we'll sell your life, and tape your fat ass tight
Must be just the master monk The underhood, the underworld's under man Motherfuck bein' understood, long as we understand You can't twist the Treach [unverified] and mix his friends Niggas over here don't switch and bitch and bend
All eyes on a prize, pimpin' it, and battle a million dollar chance I glance and just take your tip It's that last nine hundred and ninety nine thou' And bowed and thanked the crowd bein' in style And gimme all these boys a while, truth will tell, I ain't have skunk
Get 'em tough and guts, smoke from [unverified] and hand Treach Get 'em out of grants that they owe, the top notch Makin blocks flock, don't have to bust shots I got props, I'm warning you like closing doors when cop knocks
Ha, now let me line this nigga up How you soundin' talkin' plain wit' my name, man what the fuck? Oh, you don't know, boom, bap, smack and there it is How we dealin' wit' these frustrated niggas in the biz? (What the fuck was he freakin'?)
I bring some drink in, just for fun They be guzzlin' on gallons of that red ass rum You might as well-a put a motherfuckin' bounty on your head 'Cos the drama's for your momma, till your bitch ass dead
Let those chickens, I see your mental picture clickin' I know I only make it for the one-night stickin' Phat, I take that back because I was not thinkin' After one piece of my dick, your brain starts shrinkin'
How many niggas gettin' lye tonight? How many niggas gettin' high tonight?
What? Check it, when the man ain't the man no more We'll see which one of his men will withstand and be the man in the war All that rah rah, I send that ass bye bye After that I fly, I put that on the tatt on my neck, capital I, I
Serve those wit' the nerve to test this Step and get'cha records clipped Original is what you kick but I know you better quit You analyse my click then go duplicate my shit Discredit's what you get, 'cos you bit
Niggas get the hit-low and shit loads, I flip shows If it goes to Glocks, we didn't have the blocks in your zip code Keep hittin' knockers wit' the showstopper in this industry For they hit us with the Hoffa or Kennedy remedy
That's when Vinnie will be Lightin' shit up brighter than a bicentennial, see we Sick of talkin' shit, niggas knowin' how we do So if you don't fuck with us, we won't have to fuck with you (We won't have to fuck wit' you)