Intro 



[Hell Rell]

Okay,okay,okay 

Yes sir 

Hell Fuckin Rell, 

J.R. Writer, Forty 

This is how we do it 

I am one of a kind(yeah) 

Its now or never nigga 

Times up muthafucka 

Lets do this 



[Hell Rell] 

Aiyo, I stop paying for coke, get bricks on the muscle 

Gorillas on they bullshit, Welcome to the jungle 

Fiends get served in the hallway, welcome to the hustle 

Where bitches do anything for a hit of that glass dick, 

When Im outta town, nothing less than a half brick, 

One-Sixty on the dash nothing less than a fast whip, 

I floss when its sunny, got money for a rainy day, 

In the dope spot a few blocks from where the Yankees play, 

Man Im heavy in that BX borough, We aint gotta front for nobody, 

We just thorough, and Im sittin' on an arsenal, rockets and the missiles, 

Took my advance and got my strip poppin with them nickels. 

And when Im in ya neighborhood, you gotta go hide, 

Deliver bullets to ya door like them Domino pies nigga, 

say hello to my little friend like scarface, 

I pull that fuckin rifle right out the guitar case



[Chorus: Bezel]

Dipset, the best out, Hell Rell, he fresh out 

Jones the kuffe smacker, He bringing them techs out 

Sporty-style, Forty Cal, He bringing corvettes out 

Bezel the Beast but I still show you what fresh bout 

You know who shavin the grams, 40k on the hand 

Killa Nigga, what more can I say about Cam, 

J.R. the Writer of writers and Santana, 

Back like cooked crack 

He even supplying suppliers 



[J.R. Writer]



Dipset, lets do it man 



The type that im tighter, tight cause im writer 

write cause im nicer, site for the lifers 

knifes in the cipher, writers a viper, 

listen this is butter, 

even ringling brothers see i got the eye of the tiger 

before i met killa cam, i was dealing killa grams 

i mean killer grams, throws a tan, fill a pan 

recorded in the hole, where you couldn't chill or stand 

no booth, microphone hangin off the ceiling fan 

mass million fan sittin in the belly hilton 

watch how i heavy kills him, bessey,chevy,desi fill em 

but i still aint break a sweat, yes Im chillin, 

Veet wong, seat wrong, tito gonna bet the building 

I been grind to lean, sniff lines for fiends, 

grams chopped, tan rock, I pitch lima beans 

Piff grind was mean, had em dumb stuck, 

so when i say uncut, i dont mean behind the scenes 



[Chorus] 







[40 Cal] 

40

Yo Im a NY G like Jeremy Shockey, 

come through drop my coupe like i meant to be sloppy 

I got DJ's kickin karate, 

cause they throw my wax on and take your wax off like Mr. Myagi 

Pimpin, Im cocky, I slap your broad on the cheek 

and send her home barefooted, you massaging her feet 

you probably go down on a freak, youre hardly a meat 

but we aint mad cause your proving, you are what you eat 

your squadron is weak, speak and get a broken something 

need a plate in ya grill like a toaster oven 

fuck it, they even got dojas frontin

shakin your cola, only time your coke was bubbling cousin 

Cal get weight wit no problemo 

ride around ya block, sell it out the car window 

and ya moms been know, that I chop rocks 

that make your father cop like Carl Winslow 



[Chorus]