[talking:] 

Yeah-yeah uh, this your nig' C. Wig ya dig 

Getting real-real ghetto, gutter in here for ya 

The mic one time, I got this right flow 

You gonna feel it, check me out one time two times 



[Chris Ward:] 

A lot of hoe niggaz speaking war, but really mean peace 

Fuck hibernation, cause I am a mean beast 

I love the South, I was raised on these mean streets 

I run through dirty turf, and still I come out with clean cleats 

Look you looking for some work, in the green sheets 

Fuck that, I'll get you some work to stack some green sheets 

As far as the hustle, you don't know how much time I spent 

On the grind, trying to structure and design my print 

I'm the one behind the chrome grill, behind the Bent' 

And you could see the pinky ring on the wheel, behind the tint 

Along with that the bracelet, and the charm got freeze 

A lot of niggaz play hard, but softer than hot cheese 

I'm C. Wigga, or C. Weez 

The same one that told y'all, he's fresher than Free Breeze 

I'm still most wanted, still most hated 

My mail comes heavily steadily, whether or not it's post dated 

And cause I'm out on bond, they say I'm a mobster 

But I ain't looking for trouble, I'm just looking to prosper 

You might catch me eating chicken and shrimp, fetticini pasta 

M.O.B.'s my tree, and S.U.C. is the roster 

I stay's on my grizzlet, because I got's to 

One day I'm Dickie suited, the next day it's Las Costa 

But if you'd like, you could come to my la casa 

Then you'll understand why, I walk and talk with a posture 

That let's you know, that I'm one of the freshest 

But if you play with me, I'll leave you and your crew stretched out on stretchers nigga 

See you, ain't gotta like my kind 

Matter of fact, you ain't gotta like my rhymes 

That's why everytime I spit it, I make sure you feel it 

And let these haters know, I got a trifling mind bitch 



[talking:] 

Yeah, that's real spit 

Like 40 Water would say, say 



I grind cause I gotta grind, shine cause I gotta shine 

I'm the reason that they wearing shades, cause I got em blind - 2x 



[Kyleon:] 

I speak the truth, like I'm rapping at the King James 

You know what that mean mayn, Kyleon the king mayn 

You just a baby boy, Kyleon Ving Rhames 

I'm H-Town's rookie of the year, call me King James 

Lebron, Kyleon's the one motherfucker 

Diamonds down, Kyleon shine like the sun motherfucker 

The booth Jesus, God's son motherfucker 

Got that blow flow, and got it by the ton motherfucker 

Not Juvenile, but Kyle stick to the G-code 

My shit is fo' hundred degrees, damn he thoed 

I speak heat, like my pen got gonerhea 

My sheet's my freak, so you geeks don't wanna see her 

Dead End, that's the block that I'm repping 

Act like you got plex, and I'ma cock that weapon 

And make a nigga get to stepping, like Martin 

Fuck up they face, and have it looking like Martin