| I’m leavin, on the next plane
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| I don’t know when I’ll be back again
|
| I’m a Southside nigga you could find me where the money at
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| Find me in your crib with the nina where that money at
|
| See me I found that remedy to stop from telling
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| I’ll put the ruger to your forehead, pop your melon
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| See me I gets busy, front and it’s a wrizzy
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| I move with the Semis, zip zip through the city
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| The law can’t get me, the Lord gotta get me
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| I make shit hot, then lay low till it fizzy
|
| You think you know Fiddy?! |
| You don’t know Fiddy!
|
| In a S-5 fiddy, the fo' fo' with me
|
| My man Yayizzy stay off the hizzy
|
| Sell fiends whizzy, they smoke crack till they dizzy (OH!)
|
| Your man Joey Crack, I told him before
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| He don’t want it with me, YOU PUSSY FAT BOY!
|
| You wanna go to war? |
| Ok Ok I’ll go to war?!
|
| Catch ya slippin put ya put ya brains on the floor
|
| I’m leavin, on the next plane
|
| D’s ran up in my crib and found cocaine
|
| Fingerprints on the hammers and heroin
|
| Before I go back to jail I’m squeezin mayne
|
| I’m a Southside nigga you could find me where the money at
|
| Find me in your crib with the nina where that money at
|
| See me I found that remedy to stop from telling
|
| I’ll put the ruger to your forehead, pop your melon
|
| Look! |
| The television caters to pop, not violent hits (Yeah!)
|
| The Unit ain’t fall off it’s all politics (WE THE BEST!)
|
| Niggas don’t throw rights they throw hollow tips
|
| And they don’t wanna get married they want model chicks (TELL 'EM BANKS!)
|
| Sex, liquor and dough, bottle piff
|
| Fuck buyin the Phantom, I’ll just borrowed Fif’s
|
| Yesterday’s that is tomorrow’s this
|
| From a land and a hill to a Colorado cliff
|
| Nigga you violate me I’m sendin' you to God
|
| I’m no peacemaker, that’s my jeweler’s job (FUCK THAT!)
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| I spit it how I live it nigga you the fraud!
|
| Put my weight on your back you wouldn’t move the yard
|
| I’m leavin, on the next plane
|
| D’s ran up in my crib and found cocaine
|
| Fingerprints on the hammers and heroin
|
| Before I go back to jail I’m squeezin mayne
|
| I’m a Southside nigga you could find me where the money at
|
| Find me in your crib with the nina where that money at
|
| See me I found that remedy to stop from telling
|
| I’ll put the ruger to your forehead, pop your melon
|
| Yeah! |
| Aiyyo! |
| Touch one of mine, I’ll touch one of yours
|
| Send us to the hospital, I’ll send yours to the morgue
|
| I’m like Jesus to the hood, and God to the industry
|
| All 50's enemies are all of my enemies (WOOOOOOOO!)
|
| I’m a smoker O.G. |
| kush in the jar
|
| Drop the top on the Lamb place the poker with car
|
| Glock automatic yo, bitch got a fatty yo
|
| Fourteen bricks, Pablo killin Fabio
|
| I’m tryin to put 700's they didn’t made them yet
|
| Yep! |
| They got 'em now baby, the F-700's crazy!
|
| Why buy the refrigerator doors
|
| I blend up the D and cook up the hard
|
| I’m leavin, on the next plane
|
| I don’t know when I’ll be back again
|
| Yeah! |
| I watched Rap City!
|
| I see this fat nigga Joe up there frontin
|
| Don’t nobody like this nigga’s shit, this nigga’s wack son!
|
| That nigga J. Holiday is the new nigga, and he’s makin the shit hot!
|
| Niggas really don’t wanna hear your fatass nigga!
|
| Shit is wack son! |
| Tell ya straight up nigga!
|
| And I’m easy to find nigga!
|
| You can’t find me, look in the motherfuckin Yellow Pages!
|
| I’m right across the street from Madison Square Garden
|
| Everybody come there for a motherfuckin interview!
|
| Everybody come and talk to me when they need to take a meetin!
|
| WHY YOU CAN’T FIND ME?! |
| HUH?!
|
| HARD TO FIND A NIGGA THAT YOU KNOW GOT A GUN?!
|
| RIGHT?! |
| HARD TO FIND A NIGGA THAT YOU KNOW RIDIN 'ROUND IN BULLETPROOF SHIT!
|
| HARD TO FIND NIGGA HUH?!
|
| WELL, NOW YOU GOT MY UNDIVIDED INDIVIDUAL ATTENTION!
|
| I’m ON YOUR ASS NOW! |