[Intro: Styles P]
[?] the machine on the boards
Throw that sh** up, [?]
Tell Lou bring some more of that brown water here
D-Block, everything's lovely
[Verse 1: Styles P]
Go get it from the get go
Sure n***a, but throw a stiff jab like a Klitschko
I don't want to box, nor draw a pistol
Ha, I'm just being wishful
If it's going down, let it go, dog
I ain't just rapping, I was a menace before O-Dog
Used to be bundles of dope, now it's bundles of hope
And the big 45 when I doze off
Mobster, mad dog colt bite your nose off
All this blood, and I don't feel a thing
Ghost come around, n***a, don't say you're king
Don't say you're the best or something gon' ring
It won't be a bell, it'll probably be a shell
You'll be eaten like pasta, f**boy, go to hell
f** the new n***as and the old n***as too
Tell them all to s** a dick is what a bold n***a do
Treat them like toilet paper, you can roll n***as through
And watch them get sh**ted on
‘Cause this is for n***as in the streets
And the n***as in the cell with the 25 to L bout to get it on
Yeah I know about the ox works
Hustling like it's clockwork
Yeah we run the city, but we ran from the cops first
I was trained for the manhunt
Southside, seven years old, playing Manhunt
I don't like trash rappers, you gon' get your man done
We could pay for the work, we don't need your man fronting
f** about the plug, he could end up in my man trunk
It's like that ‘cause it's like this
n***as get k**ed on the day and the night shift
Grimy n***as will leave you lifeless
All they care about is indictments and the prices
Ghost
[Sheek Louch talking]
This beat is stupid
Feel like we should have this f**ing Premo beat, man
I got ‘em
[Verse 2: Sheek Louch]
You ain't never liked me, n***a, pardon my French
Now I am the sh**, you got to pardon my stench
Starting 3, n***a, never the bench
I rock Louch, stay in the trench
I could put my lyrics in the ground and grow you n***as
Hip-hop gym star, I could blow you n***as
Really think about writing a book to show you n***as
But I rather you learn on your own
So who the f** want to die? Not a lot of shots this accurate
Turn your skin green and yellow like Packers get
Styles say shoot ‘em, not thinking twice
You gon' hear that sh** echo like Greg Nice
Kicking like a fortune teller
Had base on the block by the name of Old Yeller
Now I'm with [?] way out in Coachella
Donny n***a, Ponzi scheme flow
You're Adrian Broner, I'm Tyson Riddick Bowe
Take it off safety and let that sh** go, n***a
[Outro: Sheek Louch]
This n***a's a beast, man
[Scratches]
“All they care about is indictments and the prices”
“All they care about”
“Grimy n***as will leave you lifeless”
“All they care about is indictments and the prices”