[Intro: Free Murda]

Eastside... Fort Greene...



[Chorus x2: Free Murda]

Rolling down the street, you can catch me with my doors up

Hop out, music playing, posted on the corner

Let you arms swing, nigga, let you arms swing, nigga

Let you arms swing, nigga, let you arms swing, nigga



[Free Murda:]

Go and get your eat on, I got hoes

So my dick I don't beat on, something to throw my feet on

Curl my toes, that's how it goes, as I skeet on

Tired of shitting on 'em, so like Kels watch me pee on

It's you, your girl cheat on, once they throw Free on

Smoking on that neon, green, that's what he on

And your man CD, watch I crush weed on

And burn it like pee-pee, when you get your STD on

Crack is gon' need me, the way I get my G on

Walk the streets sleepy, that's when doc throw the sheets on

Get my fam Keon, to lean on something

Keep on fronting, got to keep on ducking



[Chorus x2]



[Free Murda:]

Poppin' your lip, I'm cocking my fifth

Only thing that he cock is his dick, with his fist

Ill, better chill, lil' calm then I mellow

Catch me with that purple like that Turtle Donatello

Armed in the ghetto, palm in my metal

Cuz I'm off that Remy Martin, not that chick from Bronx borough

I'm in a Montero, the way my palm hello

Cuz them bitch niggas'll stab me in the back, wanna have me like that

Ain't a DVD, but you can get 'smacked'

Bout to die, and I ain't goin' with ya, like a mix-match

Gat about to holla, but it ain't no chit-chat

When you hear that click-clack, you never forget that, nigga



[Chorus x2]