You see me, you know that I'm on my Deen

Down to get down anytime by any means

Known to be OT, reppin on any scene

And all about the paper, we stackin up plenty green

From my city to your city, it's all the same

These hoes disrespectin, they callin you out your name

These niggaz lookin for work, there's guarantee to lock

Put they dope up in they sock, then head out to the block

These snitches wearin G uniforms to blend in

Yeah we know you one of the ones Feds gon' send in

Got caught, out of town, lookin at a dime

So you wanna give other niggaz ya time

And here's the new plan, they cut the dope way before you can

By the time you get it, you like what the fuck to do man?

You better be a certified chef

Or your whole sellers fittin to go left to the death

And street niggaz ain't got receipts so

They fittin to try to sleep yo ass on the d-low

Ridin like Deebo, comin like Carter

You rollin like Marsellus Wallace, we roll harder

Start a situation and we bring it to the end

So take a memo motherfucker, send it to a friend

Then send it to your kin or whoever care

'Cause when we come, we takin out whoever there

Yeah, real talk, this is real nigga attitude

Bring it your face, give me longitude and latitude

Better show me some gratitude

Or I'm a show you why God himself ain't never made a badder dude

Then the one standin in front of you

Bitch you know what I'm a do and don't call me B, this Mr. Bun to you

Motherfucker fix ya grammar

The next time you call a nigga bamma, you better have a hammer

And I ain't talkin 'bout all that nail shit

I'm talkin 'bout they poppin off and makin you bail shit

We ride like Amtrak cross country

You badder bitch? Then come in front and try to chump me

Ah shit, ding, ding goes the bell

That's the sign that ya bitch ass is fittin to take a L

Don't give it to ya homeboy, take it for yourself

And after I give it to ya, you can take it and tell

And put in on ya Facebook wall

And let your friends see, how a trill nigga took y'all and shook y'all

Stompin like a nigga that's ten foot tall

But don't trip it's just a friendly game of football

Hold up and I'm the Super Bowl quarterback

But yo bitch ass? You ain't even much a starter jack

Go ahead and take ya team to the showers

When we done with the trophy bitch, you can have ours

'Cause we packin more power

And bound to make ya stop, drop and roll like the fuckin Twin Towers

Hours on the clock goin by like seconds

When you in the middle of a chin check and I wreck it

With real live thugs at my beck and call

They won't find no trouble disrespectin y'all

So you bound to fall, somebody yell "timber!"

You fuckin with the down South King, call me Simba

And remember, who the fuck ya talkin to

Or you'll see the pearly gates you'll be walkin through, fool