(feat. Styles P)

                    [Gun shots]



                      [Jada laughing] haha

                    Lets go



                      Feds in the precent looking at our picture



                      If rap dont work then were going to get it like i diss ya



                      I was told to ride with them niggaz that'll die witcha 



                      Headed to O.T then bring some pies witcha



                      By ur man in lambo n tell to fly witcha 



                      Or through them niggaz jewels



                      N tell them to shyne witcha



                      I shyne



                      U shyne



                      Like the southern western



                      U dont wanna fell the ghost



                      Or the kiss of death



                      Tubs still left up



                      Selling the sinks now



                      Pablo oscobar shit



                      Buying the clip now



                      Dead presidents shit 



                      Robbing the bricks now



                      100 shot tommy gun



                      Hell of stink now

                    [Chorus x2]



                      J A D A cause the peel hollow the gun



                      To holla at sons



                      Y im that nigga yall know that



                      To holla at styles



                      The double r is coming 4 war what

                    [Verse two]



                      Yo talking about a quarter



                      And everything is bad for niggas know a days



                      So we drink a lot of water



                      Talking about ur so rich



                      Nigga ur so bitch 



                      That ur parents proabably think they had a daughter



                      Yea we da boys that bring all the terror 



                      We perserver thru all the errors 



                      We lay niggas down wit all berrats 



                      Everything in the bag



                      Chains,watches 



                      All your leathers



                      So u can act funny wit cha selfs



                      In the hood wit dope



                      Sex is still 20 after 12



                      A sign of the times



                      Kitchen cook thrity eight, thirty eight trays 



                      That well remind u of the dimes

                    [Chorus x2]

                    Hustler artchapanors



                      Nething to do with the hood



                      Thats what we responsible 4



                      Back down



                      Knifing u up



                      Stomping u jaw



                      Bail a nigga out for stilling something out on a tour



                      And we make a technology to try to screw niggas



                      Im good as long as i hold a gun to kill a new nigga



                      Yall dudes wit nine lives 



                      U got 1 life left



                      And controvorsory sells 



                      But it aint like death



                      So pop him in his head till his brain start to fizz on him



                      I aint sell ma sole to the devil i bought his from him



                      Waiting on the day they say jesus gon come



                      So god bless u niggas cause im snezzing with ma gun



                      Heachu



                      Bless u



                      U aint d block



                      Or double r nigga



                      No doubt ima stretch u



                      Im shot u back ten feet ima catchu



                      Real vodoo shit



                      Make sure i snap ur neck too



                      Thats a law on the aston marr



                      Lamborghini or the porsche with the crashing balls



                      Iced out



                      Or wear no ice at all



                      Hundred gs on the dice game



                      Lifes a ball



                      Listen up 



                      If u real



                      Get real and state



                      We the best in the game that aint no real debate



                      And the never had aks peel they face



                      Cause its writing in the stars to consele thier fate



                      Time to escape

                    [Chorus x2]