Ayo  ayo you you you got that thing for me   huh?
 You thought I was layin? no no I aint layin  Im takin
 You dont understand? You confused?
 How bout if I stuff your fuckin head through that
 window
 That would unconfuse you right?
 Thought I was layin  give me the fuckin money  come on

 Verse 1:

 Im blamin
 lame ass rappers frontin for famin
 I should open up a casino for all the games you playin
 Im sayin, everyday in a different namin
 Plus they homos now, big black niggas flamin
 We stressin, that you don't be stressin us
 And if you GS and GS than dont be B.S'n us
 Just be B.S'n logicly
 Not like that we be guessin
 Because the truth need no modesty
 Cristal to spring water, Bacardi whateva
 What it is, is what it is
 We can party together
 You know how the game goes
 Whenever your name grows
 But still love is love fuckin the same hoes
 Against the grain goes the souped up rapper
 He spittin venom
 So now we gotta get wit him
 And do the ten thing
 Frightenin, while his men cling
 Then watch blood extract out his ass like ginsing
 It all ends with, all of his mens hit
 And now our future friends shit
 Strictly forensic
 But thats the life we livin'
 Drivin', thats how we driven
 Strivin, you must be robin
 Cause I aint given
 Shoot ya guns

 Chorus:

 Now when we bless this with precise shit
 That we suffice with
 We keep your mentals lit
 Now when we bless this
 (echo: bless this, bless this, bless this, bless this)

 verse 2:

 I see ya overly concernin
 Ya insides burnin
 Mad at the fact Sauce is earin
 With more niggas than Mark Furman
 Ya never learnin, never been so determined
 Not to be concerned with ya sermon
 Wheels of fortune still turnin
 Still street caviar remains untouched
 For Sauce Money cheeseburger deluxe
 Screamin what the ******(crooks?) feenin
 Dough we rake off
 While you hailin cabs
 We, taxi for take off
 Fake crews and units is dubbin
 Get ya whole clan wiped out, no scrubbin
 For the decription givin, chapstick flappin
 Pistol whipin, nigga rappin
 Sell arms to keep 'em clappin
 Gung ho chicks spueeze for me
 Crazy g's for me, to see cheese come easily for me
 In the same arenas
 Aint gotta state his name, you seen us
 Sippin on Bay Breeze's
 Now we higher than Venus
 Comparin thumbs, tryin to see whos the greenest
 High strung
 No relief pitcher off my tounge
 Ace of the staff, Sauce back to back Cy Young

 Chorus X4

 Verse 3:

 In the club lit
 Listen to all my niggas hit
 Bitches love me for this disrespectfull shit
 Fuck em, the only thing I'm with is large amounts,
 clear
 Money the only thing that counts here
 By any means like Malcom
 X marks the spot you know the outcome
 Income, never outdone
 Rap star, hit the stage dipped in tar
 Other crews muerto
 Cant fuck with this concierto
 Too fecicous
 So I drop new releases
 Till your crew deceases
 Screw your pieces, fuck you thesis
 Fuck your speeches, and fuck your beef
 Cause when my crew aim, do more than brush ya teeth
 It'll split your shit, when it hit your shit
 If you dont want yo' shit hit
 Dont forget yo' shit
 We dont spar
 We aimin all niggas to Allah
 When its spent
 And to the nazarine if ya 85 percent
 Do what I gotta
 Straight shot of Jack
 Ameretta, colada for my bitch in the back
 Never bluffin
 Never rap for nothin
 Rap flow, dont love it
 Sincerly yours
 Sause motherfucka