[Intro: Boldy James & Bun B]
(Statik Selektah)
Where we at with it?
It's the jack god
Concreatures, gladiators
Let's get it
[Verse 1: Boldy James]
It's the big creature, I beat the, I beat the beat up
Track was on fire way before I lit the weed up
Bossed up on these niggas, now I can kick my feet up
At the roundtable, come grab a chair and pull a seat up
Let's parlor about them tractor trailers and trolleys
Pullin' off the loading dock with them crates on the dolley
The trenches is where I'm safest, in the Wraith with Murray
Buckled up in safety, they say you better safe than sorry
Back to back on the west end highway with an Asian Barbie
Baby playin' crazy in the binky, tryna race the 'Rari
I say can never be too safe, you better late than tardy
Bust diddy Presi' Day and Date, nah, this ain't Bulgari
Know how I get when shit go left, but why start it up?
Can't touch what you can't feel, what make me hard to touch
Shots to them niggas that can never be a part of us
I'm sorry for not feelin' sorry for you sorry fucks
[Chorus: Boldy James & Paul Wall]
Due to all the high for lootin', it's been a lot of boostin'
Know it's a gun involved when it come to my conclusion
They say life is a messy bitch, death is not assuming
Gotta play to win in this game or you gon' die from losing
Few million dollars in one sitting, shit damn near got me drooling
All of these boppers on the strip, my niggas got 'em choosing
So when they start to shoot, that's when we'll stop the music (What it do?)
Me, Uncle Bun, and Paul Wall, we got a problem, Houston (Paul Wall, baby)
[Verse 2: Paul Wall]
Grind so hard, you'd swear I had a body double
Never buckle, when the pressure come, turn up the hustle
Pockets bubble, so I'm pieced up like a puzzle
Bun and Boldy brought the muscle, watch the tone on your rebuttal
Break the huddle, then break you off like a crab leg
You bet on me losin' at any point, then that's a bad spread
Bags of bread and packs to the head
In a 'Lac that's red, leanin' like I got a bad leg
Never mad, instead, I'm motivated
On a potent soda, sedated, that's why I'm so elated
Medicated off concentrate, help the concentration
So devoted to the game, focused on locatin' paper
All major, nothin' petty
When it come to hustles, I got plenty
Thick skin, it's tough to offend me, you comprehend me?
I'm tryna get them Benjis, that grind, it's just in me
Now let's go and get it
[Chorus: Boldy James & Bun B]
Due to all the high for lootin', it's been a lot of boostin'
Know it's a gun involved when it come to my conclusion
They say life is a messy bitch, death is not assuming
Gotta play to win in this game or you gon' die from losing
Few million dollars in one sitting, shit damn near got me drooling
All of these boppers on the strip, my niggas got 'em choosing
So when they start to shoot, that's when we'll stop the music (Gladiators)
Me, Uncle Bun, and Paul Wall, we got a problem, Houston (It's up)
[Verse 3: Bun B]
What's up? I'm the boogieman under the bed
That'll wake you up mid-dream and put that forty-five to your head
The only way you gon' survive is if you show us the bread
And pass the butter
Or else, lights out, close the shutters
I ain't come to cause a ruckus, we can do this shit quietly
The wife and kids can sleep through it all if you ain't denyin' me
I ain't gotta put a hot one in you, but I will though
That shit'll fuck you over like a double-sided dildo
Pause, trust me, nigga, these ain't shooters, I brought killers
Real steppers, real life gorillas, they straight dealers
Catch us on Nightline, America's Most Wanted
You don't get taunted, I make you famous in my sightline
Niggas couldn't hold me in the cuts when I hold my nuts
And you see me and Boldy moving boldly in some buffs
And it's pitch-black out
'Cause when you boxed in, you can't back out
'Specially when we 'proach you with the MAC out
Bitch, it's soul food
[Chorus: Boldy James]
Due to all the high for lootin', it's been a lot of boostin'
Know it's a gun involved when it come to my conclusion
They say life is a messy bitch, death is not assuming
Gotta play to win in this game or you gon' die from losing
Few million dollars in one sitting, shit damn near got me drooling
All of these boppers on the strip, my niggas got 'em choosing
So when they start to shoot, that's when we'll stop the music
Me, Uncle Bun, and Paul Wall, we got a problem, Houston
