[ VERSE 1: MC Ren ]

Niggas in the hood lookin at me crazy

Tellin niggas like they wanna fuck my old lady

Same fuckin shit every day at 8 o'clock

Nigga, start my day off raisin off the cock

I throw the khakis on, with the t-shirt

Never knowin when a nigga might hit the dirt

I'm thinkin, how in the fuck can I get high quicker

Mix the blunt with some muthafuckin malt liquor

These niggas that I love, I don't trust em, but I stay close to em

In case I gotta do em

We from the same set, but that don't mean shit no mo'

I be premeditatin with the .44 (.44)

My hoe be tellin a nigga to peel they caps back

Cause I know where them niggas hide they shit at

Shit be on my mind, return a shot call

Broke as fuck, it's about to get hot, y'all



[ CHORUS: Big Rocc ]

	Niggas starvin while you're home with the mills

	Niggas killin while you're doin dope deals

	Out flossin, throwin 100 $ bills

	Time to set yo ass up for the kill

	Death of a shot caller, who can you trust?

	It might be your number 1 nigga that bust

	A cap, he's the next one to take charge

	Smoke him and his bitch in his backyard



[ VERSE 2: MC Ren ]

A nigga's sittin on the curb

Hear that nigga come bumpin with the suburb

Got my niggas on point, same niggas he be fuckin hoes with

And rollin up the blunts when he wanna get lit

Homie, when that nigga put the mutahfucka in park?

That's the signal, little nigga, pump 3 in his heart

Don't feel shit, cause it's real shit, he a bitch

Niggas in the hood doin bad while he gettin rich

Off this shit we be killin niggas fo'

Can't make a move less this muthafucka say so

Nigga, fuck that, I'm runnin this shit

I'ma look him in his eyes when his punk-ass gettin hit

But if you miss, nigga, I'ma kill you

Cause if he get away, muthafucka, then we all through

Fuck 3 shots, nigga, add 2

And handle what the fuck you gotta do

Kill the shot caller



Man, you know we been smokin niggas for this muthafucka

This nigga ain't paid us shit, man

(I know, dog)

Hold up, hold up, hold up, dog

Man, gimme the gat, I - damn

Hey nigga, you got my muthafuckin money?

Nigga, fuck yo money, nigga

No nigga, fuck you

( *shots* )

Oh shit, oh shit...

Damn!



[ VERSE 3: Tha Chill ]

These O.G.'s got me twisted like twizzler

Got me heated and hot, and all I'm thinkin is killin ya

Peelin ya cap back, like Starter, fool

I'm comin to get you niggas off my block, so I pack a full 

Glock with big slugs, and you know I buck no doubs

Cause you know a nigga steelo, how I did them fools a week ago

One week passed, I'm hearin you wanna wet us

When you see Ren, Rocc, Tha Chill, you're puttin on the jetters

What the fuck? These niggas tryin to bust on me?

So I'm cockin up the can and ready to make them do some gas

And do some flippin, and all that

Cause niggas out here shot call, get they ass jacked

And that's the main fact, big payback for you punk muthafucks

Disrespectin the crew, it's mandatory that I buck

Ass down from Comptown, Mr. Shot Caller

Gonna be a fast faller if he ain't a fast talker

Fast walker, or better yet better be a fast runner

Chill on the scope with the cannon, finna gun ya

Dumpin 9 to the gut like "Nigga, what?"

This ol' B.G. big baller, fuck the muthafuckin shot caller



[ CHORUS ]