Verse 1 (Lil Wayne)
Fresher than a mothaf**in c**aine pusher
Got work under the stairs, got the gun in the bushes
Anybody want beef, come and meet the butcher
Bring the punk out of a n***a like Ashton Kutcher
f** you pay me! like nasty hookers
I got that recipe they tell me pa** the cook book
f**in wit lil weezy baby thats a good look
So hop your a** on the good book and sha mon'
I ain't really that n***a that you would want to front on
I put ya whole life on ya front lawn .. come on
Son on that sh** that none on, gun on
I can drive the whip and work the tooly while with one arm
Thats word to my mom, she worry if I'ma come home
I tell her dont trip, I'm runnin this b**h, a n***a just gettin his stunt on
Number one stunner junior! hallelujah! f** ya! I wish I never knew ya! PEACE!
Chorus (Rick Ross)
I got a bird in the bag, and the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the magazine on my lap
Clear the scene!
Clear the scene!
Clear the scene
Let the g's do they thing X2
Verse 2 Ransom
My hustle is gettin gully
You f**ers will get it from me
I touch 'em with every dummy, my duffel is filled wit money
You pop your lip and get ya man shot boy!
I make 'em lean and rock like Dem Franchise Boyz!
You couldn't joust wit me, n***a there ain't no doubt wit me
You run your mouth to me, I go hang you over ya balcony
They got it out for me, dont gotta spell it out for me
Jersey boy, got the whole city that could vouch for me
Dont try to play homie ill pull the eighty out, fade ya out
Put what you was thinkin on ya lady blouse
This a great rookie, ransom, pray for me
Take a chance, put this ape on like a bapes hooded
I heard 'em all, murk 'em all wit that dirty four
Servin raw, till im thirty four, thats a jersey boy
Thats weezy f, ransom, grease yes!
Hand guns, bland one, go ahead, bleed to d**h
Chorus
Verse 3 Rick Ross
I'ma whip that dope like a n***a 'posed to do
Hundred thousand dollar whips when the boat roll through
Triple c's, my people we triple g's, while you looking all crooked, my n***as they quick to squeeze!
Slap you with the four five, b**h who you rapping bout
When it come to weight, when I rick ross max it out
I'm the one that they askin bout, in the aston martin, weed sparkin, flickin ashes out
Rick Ross will never ask you out
When I get your number I'ma come and hunt your f**in mouth
You gotta s** dick, if you wanna touch chips
?? 3 5 7 can't touch this
I-9 5, I traffic my body weight, in the big body benz, got the whole body laid straight!
You straight!? I hope ya a** is
I'll leave ya a** as is
Chorus