No Hook

[Intro: Jim Jones]

Jones!

You understand what's going on right now?

Dipset, Bird Gang, some real Geed up shhit

Listen

305, all the way to the top

Eh Khaled, what's good?

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]

Rocks like bolder game

Crazy upstate

Test the Rolls in the lane, racing up the A

We betting thousands on street corners

Roll the dice with police on us

Slow like the Henesy

Cold tonight, need the seat warmers

[?] slice [?]

[?]

4 door, welcome [?]

Heavy supercharger

Goods, no war

That's for beginners, I'm living like a winner

[?]

[Verse 2: Styles P]

You don't want a robbery, nobody trying me

Looking for some good in me, lil bit of god in me

Right now, whole lotta shit startin to bother me

Wanna see some vains spilled, shit load of arteries

Any rap motherfucker tryna say they hard as me

Tell the truth, I don't know why these niggas start with me

I been in it now, fuck a semi

Get a rocket launcher, I better shoot your Bentley or your hand me downs

Khaled, you should warn them niggas, ad an extra listen on 'm

Then figure out who make the paper that say "missing" for 'm

Layin on the top, bigger than a fishing form

Go and get your whole crew, round up the craziest

Send them here, I'll send them back and show you what the raiser did

We ain't getting paper nigga, you can meet your maker nigga

Turn you purple and yello, just like a laker nigga

[Verse 3: Cassidy]

Any cat that rap, step to me, I'd catch a felony

I just beat a murder, what the fuck these niggas telling me?

I'm not into this rap shit, practicing infedelity

These [?]

I could still sell a key

I'm the hustler motherfucker, I could sell a tree

To the forest, the hardest niggas is with me

Mad cause they money is funny like Bill Belomy

And wanna put a shell in me, dog but it's all jealousy

You smellin me, but you refuse to diss me

Cause I keep a tool that could fuckin remove a kidnie

I keep a 9, the same kind Shyne used for Diddy

Plus I keep the chopper, it pop when I crues the city

Just in case a nigga get wreckliss, try to test this

And I gotta knock out his breakfast out his intestines

Said I'm on his death list, I don't care what niggas bout

If I hear a nigga mouth, then Imma air a nigga out

[Verse 4: Rob Cash]

My bro Khaled said "bring the heat", birds think I got it, sweet

Cause I rode with Pistol Pete, my shit complete

I don't take it, I make it, but you can't

You can't slip, can't even kiss a freak in your Benz

Please don't try to preach

You couldn't even last a week in these damb streets

Cause you'll catch dots on your face, like acney

Do this shit for fun, you better run like a track meet

Cause you don't want the gun dumped on your tung like ass cheaks