[Ras Kass:]

Jea! Re-Up! A J-Classic classic. Razzy... rest in peace Justo

I'm about to air these niggaz out one time



[Verse 1:]

Yo yo, ain't no nigga like the one right here

Spit flames, leave bloodstains on one night gear

G-Star jeans, gun right near

Now homey X just fucked us his bitch like "Yeah!"

Dawg I'ma spit the hottest shit

Fuck a dentist, eat a fire department and prop colleges

Ras Kass, King of the West, acknowledge this

And get a piece of the rock like meteorogologists

What Dame Dash and hapha is

645 Coupe the same color Chewbacca is

And you's a nigga everybody hates like Jar Jar Binks

That clown at the bar buying hot bitches drinks

What you passin' on to me?

What you know about Chinchilla minks? Ten killers deep

Skittle flavored diamonds, first it's blue, then it's pink

Candy painting was off, dog we floodin' the streets



[Hook 1:]

I

WILL

NOT

LOSE

I (RE-UP about that fetti)

WILL (Load up your glocks, get ready)

NOT

LOSE (haha... jea jea jea!)



[Hook 2:]

Hood niggaz if your arms up, bear it out

Niggaz ain't scared, if it's drama, we gon' air 'em out!

If your whip on chrome, what you carin' 'bout?

Drop the top, do a buck 10, dawg, air 'em out!

Who spit flame, nigga never doubts?

No problem, it's nothing, I'ma air 'em out

East, West, up North to the Dirty South (air 'em out)

I'ma (air 'em out), I'ma (air 'em out)



Yo



[Verse 2:]

I keep shit off the chain

Like broken clasp, medallions fallin' off

And yall niggaz hopin' Ras go play on the freeway

But I'm that agent in the Matrix: Reloaded

Jumpin' out movin' cars, smashin' your hoods for the keys, man

And not the ones that open doors

Por fa vor, I'm talkin' ki, mayne

Silencer on the SPK, fuck BDS them fuckin' at VVVJs(???)

R&B singers, new found fact

Got a 9 inch dick, tell your bitch to SoundScan that!

And my Down South cats be like "What it do?"

Cause my little cousin's bein' Memphis classic blue

And niggaz still ga-not ga-knowin' as Gary ga-Knew(???)

Plus I'm more Chris Real so long with Big Punished brew

Downstairs in Jimmy's Cafe, album released

Young nigga in the belly, but now I'm a beast

And it's like Sin City, every town holdin' heat

So I'm like the yellow nigga, kid it's foul when I speak

And my baby moms said I need to cut down on my cheatin'

Started fuckin' midgets, kept creepin'

You ain't gotta tell me, I know you feelin' this shit

I hear what I'm sayin' you know I'm killin' this shit, nigga



[Hook 2]



[Verse 3:]

Sometimes it all seems fucked up though

Rest in peace, cause what's mixtapes without Justo?

Sip the' Grey Goose, thinkin' about that ride on the Gray Goose

Ankles chained, headin' to Beirut

Crucified next to some nigga named Jesus

Died ressurected, bustin' blue, still trey-deuced

So yall niggaz better respectognize shits real

When my mixtape's hotter than every album this year



[Hook 1 + Hook 2]