It's clipping., bitch
What do they need? Powder, weed or Adderall?
Let them in slow, settle them in
Cali', and know when they step in the doors and seeing all the hoes
Cutting coke in the kitchen and cooking over the stove
Ain't wearing none of they clothes and it's closed and it go like that
Never wanna have to show the strap, but you got one
And it got drums that hold hundreds of bills
Old and crumpled and real soldiers humbling
Huddling 'round their heaters competing for millimeters
Like, who cock the biggest? What you got, significant?
Locked and loaded, on Patron and peyote hallucinatin'
The realest shit going on with the homies, the only way to get over it
Is to get your weight up, and pray over all of the bodies
Of water walking killers is hiding
Beside the fact of the matter, the guts will splatter at will
Every bunny in the jungle know it's kill or be killed, come get it
It ain't no fun
If it ain't cocaine in the system, buddy, but it ain't got nothin'
To do with the way OG's banging, bitch wanna get sprayed, don't run
And getting away with it anyway, anybody can get it, get it? Got it
Goddamn it, can't believe today was a good day
When it seem like every other day is a hood day
Do you see the irony? He don't know nothing 'bout it
This murdering ain't 'bout nothing but murdering snitches
And burning bridges with all the bitches who used to swing on the dick
Like it's good for physical fitness, you finna what? No bullshitting
Well, better start hitting switches in that low, low
Drop it 'til it 'bout to hit the floor, floor
Can't nobody stop it when it go, go
Gadget on a ratchet like a hatchet
How she chop and screw the dick up, licking after all the wood
That been blown good and blowed up
Get thowed and running up in the guts and busting, come get it
Woop, woop, that's the sound of the end of the party
Chew up the molly, quick, pick up all the guns and get rowdy
Better be the best if they trying to be the definition of every hood motherfucker's contorted vision
They snorting the game, sporting the flyest of fashion passionately
Wanna get some action? Then better make sure the camera can see
The fuck wanna enter in a war with a veteran?
Who got a score to settle with motherfuckers for meddling?
You think about the kettle, the pot has been plotting blowing until blue
And they face crews, wanna be true
Claiming that you, pocket or not
Back it up, drop, all that you got
Into the bag, make it a tax write-off
Take it right off that ass
Now flip it, dip it, brake it, the foot on the gas
Go 'head and clip it, pop it, shake it, then make it go fast
The days of paying for fascination a thing of the past
So get your paper up partner, you talking cash, they talking fast, come get it