(feat. Big Shug, Ed O.G., Krumbsnatcha)



That's right, Boston

Yeah, Boston niggas be rollin' dolo from state to stae

It's nothing, we do this



[Chorus]

Still nobody guards I stay sucker free

Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees

Rollin' Dolo from state to state

Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate



[Guru]

Yo, jealousy can kill so I test my skill

Any pomp I can romp and stomp at will

Now as I gets my thrill it's like my daily drill

You spill raps and in (?) I've been made to ill

You can't talk the talk, you can't walk the walk

Been dwelling with the muggers and the murderers talk

Your shocked by the way I regulate ya' obliterate ya'

Erase your obsolete weak cheap data



[ED O.G.]

It's this hip-hop art I stay true to, crack brew to

I fuck your girl a lot better than you do

The type of lyrics I spit will never fail you

Battle you online, type a letter forward it then email you

Take you off the track and de-rail you

Get the hell out my face don't want to be near you

Don't want your snippets hate your album or your headshots

It's ED O.G. in the black-fitted Red Sox

Thuggin' the streets but you soft at home

You got skills off the dome?

I'm a off your dome

This is a battlefield, no time for screaming and yelling

You get smacked in the face use your ice for the swelling

Besides the records I'm selling

My momma' raised no felon

On the hunt like Helen

For whack rappers who's jellin'

This is drama not a kitty show

You want to get fucked up

Like the low-budget video

I know a lot of time's passed

The ED O.G. is still here and ya'll still half-ass



[Chorus]

{Ya'll still half ass}

{Ya'll half-ass rappers}

Still nobody guards I stay sucker free

Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees

Rollin' Dolo from state to state

Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate



[Big Shug]

It's the return of the mouth-musher, skull-crusher

Pack myself with two nines and (?)

That nigga all day beating down suckers

Sporting the game making it get more rougher

The face-puncher the hot-cruncher

The have it with gods for the law out-to-luncher

The seven-thirty, know I'm more than a sick man

The streets raised this wild ass nigga from "Murderpan"

The real rapper the pimp-slapper

The put on the socks with your suit and stay dapper

Whoa, the chump-choker the backwood tree smoker

Stash the gats in the sofa it's all over

One life to live and that's that

I keep my lyrics heavily packed and cocked back

I'll smash you right in your fucking face black

I'm the realest nigga what you know about that

I'm a let my skills shine like brand new chrome

And tell them son-niggas you run with that daddy's home

I roll dolo from state to state it feels great

And in two thousand get on the stage and demonstrate



[Chorus]

Still nobody guards I stay sucker free

Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees

Rollin' Dolo from state to state

Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate



[Guru]

No holds barred I'm going all out

I don't think your for real I think your all mouth

So bust one for my dogs locked down

And for my real rap lovers know I got it locked down

Untill your blocked down, punks get beat down

You can't rock a party take a seat you clown

I frown upon scavengers and wannabe's

Commit atrocities upon MC's who think they heart is mean



[Chorus]

Still nobody guards I stay sucker free

Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees

Rollin' Dolo from state to state

Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate



[Krumbsnatcha]

Smokey gray Lexus, diamond necklace

We livin' wreckless and die for these inspectors

The four pounders, cock the name on you out-of-towners

And what, henne' filled cups peep the diamond cut

Ice, paradise, living in the thug life

Married to the game fuck a lame diggin' out your wife

Loving all these block wars do shit that's uncalled for

Make money in your spot get it locked, shoot down four

For all your ghetto revenues

Spraying through any avenue

Running I'll be grabbing you

Hog-tied and smacking you

With heaters on purpose

Hold you hostage like you was Turkish

And your pussy ass elevated gut it down your worthless

These thoughts is vivid and we talk if you live it

Rappers brag about a town but don't get respect in it

Ain't a damn shame, whats thats man's name

That got a flame to his nut

Clearing out his spot with a rusted hook

Trust me it's not this entertainment

Ask the judges that face me on the arrangement

Plus I came with, hundreds of niggas that think the same

The plastic hotter than acid to melt the brain

You know the rest man