Verse 1
Shhh (Two guns up mothaf**a, Two guns up mothaf**a (overlap))
Real sh**...Styles P sh**..
If P want you dead, I ain't comin' wit n***as
Just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor
So ya homies got something to pour
That's that old school sh**
I ain't tryin' to put you under the floor
I'm tryin' ta bang n***as over the clouds
And I heard you say you rich
So you can't get lower than Styles
k** everybody dead just so noone can smile
Play the streets my whole life and I been flowin' a while
Biget I rock, ever since my n***a was shot and my other n***a
Will shoot sh** I'm tellin' the truth
If I lie, may I die in the middle of the verse
My n***as hustle from first to first
Twelve months in a year
Gun on your waist, Blunt in your ear
Pack in your sock, crate at the back of the block
With a fiend watchin' for NARCS till the sh** get dark
We hop in the hoop ride, instead of the six
While you lookin' for a b**h, we lookin' for a brick
That we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix
Catch me OT gettin' sixty a shift
Holidy Styles, n***a I ain't nothin' but streets
Just as hard as the sh**, that be under your feet
And the only time I front is with a blunt in the beak
To show n***as that I'm nice and they ain't f**in' wit me
Chorus
Felony n***as
Cop coke Heavily n***as
That'll arm rob seventy n***as
You know
Murderin' n***as
You want dope, they servin' you n***as
Stay in 5th gear swervin' on n***as
You know
Whether we ryde or we die we gon' get this dough
Verse 2
All I know is d** and guns
And plenty of weed
And that b**h that s** dick
And n***as that bleed
And if you're rich before you go
Get a watch and a drop
You better hit the court house
And better bail out the block
If your son ain't worth sh**
n***as'll smuggle your daughter
I come through in a Porshe
The same color as water
I got weight, what you want
I can cover the order
They call me Boss when I cross the border
Six shot "caught her?"
I hear n***as say my face is screwed
But I'll put six in your stomach n***a
Lace your food
Scream "f** Every Rapper" that hate that I'm rude
But that's that SP sh**, you can take it or move
We can let the bullets spill, till we all get k**ed
There's only six nice rappers
If you wanna be real
n***as die everyday from talking that dumb sh**
That where they're from sh**
All that mean to me is you can get your gun quick
Just another dumb b**h
Go to church to get the holy ghost
I did my dirt and got the holy ghost
Look at the world through a n***as eyes
Dont be a b**h, you gonna live and die
Ribbon in the sky, but no love when you slither by
I pray to god that we make it to heaven
But the only thing we makin' is channel eleven
You know four, five and seven, hot as f**
And every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us
But since n***as still alive they should be tellin you somethin'
You ain't hear from Holiday, he ain't tellin' you nothin'
You know..co*ks**er..
Chorus (2x)
(skit)