[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”