Dj Clue. Desert Storm style baby. What nigga
 All:
 L-O-X, chest to chest, back to back
 glock for glock, Mac for Mac
 Dope and crack is what we sling do things you talk about
 player fuck around and catch a slug in your mouth

 Verse One: Jadakiss

 It's a shame he can rhyme, nigga loves crime
 every late night he's outside with the nine
 You ain't got chips, fuck the world
 you got chips, you can fuck the next mans girl
 Sounds harsh but they been ripped apart my world
 Where thugs could rule
 and selling crack was cool
 Knocked off hundred packs brought stacks to school
 No diploma, weed aroma nigga half coma
 know the tricks of the class see my ass on the corner
 You ain't ate shit 'til y'all tasted life
 had my moms screaming "Jay don't waste your life"
 But me and my Ace is tight
 moving base at night
 Lace your nights, you see Narcs jet
 I'll meet in the morning in the park doing sets
 And when it's dark again
 we'll let the 9s spark again
 Y'all know the dogs
 niggaz stay moving out the fog
 And when it's war we ain't gonna call on the Lord
 I'll hit 'em like the board when I split 'em with my sword
 You fear what you hear so nigga press record
 from here on out we ain't tryin' to be ignored
 L.O.X. drop shit that make niggaz mop shit
 you wanna pop shit, nigga, pop clips

 Verse Two: Styles Paniro

 Too many niggaz shake me, life is shaky
 I act like this cuz they make me probably hate me
 Nigga, I'm in the dictionary look me up
 express art from my heart, baby cook me up
 I'm the crack in your tape deck
 I'm the burner on your waist that'll leave the place wet
 I'm the money in the safe that'll pay the case debt
 I'm the jewels on your neck that'll make these dime bitches give head
 I'm the blunt 3 in the morning you take to the head
 I'm that car that you snatched when you first got bread
 I'm that spot that you got when you were running from the Feds
 I'm the heart of the page in that book that you read
 I'm the ground that absorbed all that shit that y'all bled
 Styles, physically and mentally
 going to for the goal cuz I paid the penalty
 Y'all ain't a friend of me
 y'all ain't seen the enemy
 Thinking of bending me
 but I'm on the Kennedy
 When I fly back in, hope you're packing
 coming to tear y'all niggaz in fractions
 Four-four
 seen the future we battlin' all laws

 Verse Three: Sheek Luchion

 Y'all must really wanna die, fucking with Sheek Luchi
 this here is the roof we dropping niggaz off Bonsai
 Goodbye, see you in your afterlife when
 you come back as a pussy and I fuck you again
 Respect come not from Tecs, it comes from niggaz who write checks
 to get y'all lil' niggaz outta big debts
 With paper, I'm sure that you never see me sweat
 Only in the linen when I'm spinning in my whip-up
 pass niggaz and watch they face frown like a pitbull
 The shit that we crush niggaz sniff into their groove
 scared to move
 Gleaming like you looking for change
 But ain't no dollars down there it's that sack fucking with you
 now bounce before we bust you where the good Lord split you
 Hustle to work, you kidding me, you know the difference in the cash income
 for years so many niggaz must've been dumb
 Where we from, niggaz been hustlin' drums
 making sneaker money, running for crumbs, pulling in sums
 If time don't stop, why should we yo light your spliff
 you need work? Come on I got consignment to give
 This year I need 97 gats, 97 cars
 swear to God this year, I'm gonna fuck 97 starts
 And if I come short, it ain't no slack off my shoulder
 I'm waiting for this last bitch to get a little older WHAT
 L.O.X. nigga, DJ Clue, to the muthafuckin' chest