(feat. CO, Tall Cann)

[Lynch Talking]

Yeh, yeh..
Back at that $$# once again
Had to do it, (*##$ ^!$$%z in the town

Ya know what I'm sayin'
I'ma tell 'em what I know
Know what I know


[Brotha Lynch Hung]
Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job

I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot
I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des
Your raps need that Midas touch while mines rhymes

It's suicide $#&@in' wit me, believe it
I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some ^!$$%z tried to get me
Split me in half like a joint (*##$, I had it crackin'

Slugs went flyin' through ya window, ^!$$% I'm the captain
You just rappin' to get by, might have to get to wrapped in a 6-5
Might have to get that truckin' and get locked

^!$$% you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes
I'm a tornado, you just a puddle
A poodle talkin' %#@! 'bout to get one put in ya noodle

Biotch ya got the nuts to be attackin' back at me
My chap I'm strapped have the fifty pound metal in the back seat
And it's all legal, got me dumpin' at ya Regal wid the do dirty

Gotta get mine done no matter who hurt me
Every (*##$ I got I got the key to the spot
Better hide yo (*##$ before I get the key to your spot

Stand right over ya bed wid yo glock
Put one right in ya head ya whole cake
You ain't even gon' play my %#@! rock up just like cocaine

You a no name I'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame

[Tall Cann]

Same old %#@! but a different day
Back at these ^!$$%z like boomerangs
^!$$% wanna come around and do my thang

Bangin' these ^!$$%z for the dead issues
Call the paramedics to get you
Not $#&@in' wid me in this lifetime

Not thinkin' in my right mind
Like Mike Tyson when it's my time
Got these ^!$$%z hollerin' woof

Baby you ain't hard as hundred proof
My fellow you just a ^!$$% that won't fit in a puddle
Piece a %#@!, nut ridin' get your $$# outta hidin'

Dip on 21st street ridin' there won't be a survivor
Yo $$# ain't no McGuyver you done say the wrong thangs
The method that I got to give 'em bustin' out some teeth to say the less

You can save the rest for later
I mean I'm way to major like E-major ^!$$%
You claimin' my game but you ain't nothin' but a hater

So when I pull out my tool scram
Ya riddled drain eggs and ham you in the fryin' pan
The way I reach out and snap a ^!$$% like a rubber band

Oh no there goes another man tryna $#&@ wid the Siccmade fam
Uh, Uh again?, God damn


[CO]
These ^!$$%z talk alot of %#@! but don't really know about C-O
That sneaky mother$#&@a hit ya $$# like ya P-O

When ya least expect it with the cold Smith and Wesson
Have my (*##$, set you up at the telly get you undressin'
Then it's lights camera action my pistol's blastin'

Ya night went from cashin' to missin' fractions
But %#@! do happen, so ya shoulda been ready
Instead of doin' all that yappin' shoulda copped you somethin' heavy

We deadly, like rattlesnake bites y'all the taddlin' type
Deal wit my pain and probably rattle ya life
So instead of worryin' about ours you need to see

What's the matter wit ya life?
What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get it right?
What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get a life?

Then spark it up this hitter does so ya can't get no ice
So now ya wanna hold a grudge wid, ^!$$%z like us
Beause we move %#@! like drugs where y'all stayin' and cus
And talk about the same %#@! all day
And us we on the next page and after that the next page

So try again the next day if you can't fade us today
Practice makes perfect lil' guy stay in ya place

[Brotha Lynch]
I'm a Southside rider, funk provider

Leave you in the trunk tied up, punk ya lied to us
Just to tryna glock wid us get a piece of the pie wid us
We too O-G, I don't $#&@ wid them mics cuz
I'm diggy down it will take plots to get me now
And I got the fifty thou, wanna bet ya not get me pow

I'm the threat starter fire starter put a hole in ya Starter
And you couldn't find me cause it's time for departure
Tryna get ya CD's out, I know it start ya
Blame it on me I got heat, I leave ya scortched up
I'm on the porch and nuttin' up, Southside, keep locked

Where the G's knock ^!$$%z out for $#&@in' up, we tuck 'em up
Me and C-O and Tall Cann you can't $#&@ wid us
We somethin' rough you ^!$$%z be punkin' up we got pumps and stuff
All up in the trunk and stuff we be waitin' for attack
Get me sprayin' on ya pack and now you layin' on ya back
You ain't payin' all ya rap taxes institute of malpractice

I put ya raps in a casket you half plastic
Patty mealed $$# ^!$$% put ya raps in the thrashbin
Ya clashin' wid the Burbank titan fasten ya seatbelts
I'm bout to make ya meat melt
That beer breath spittin' meat chunks at ya wig punk
I fear less rather hear less, you ^!$$%z is tryna pay less
I make ya days less trippin' on the famous tryna get famous

^!$$% please

[Tall Cann]
Ain't nobody $#&@in' wit me, this side of the city
Northside gangsta ride turn you liars to sissies
You ain't bangin' %#@! so miss me wid ya bull%#@! comment
You know me, I worship drama that was a curse from my momma

So if you wanna bring it here boy
Northgate in El camino I'm right here boy
All day long all night strong we be runnin' the North
And I can have ^!$$%z from your hood, run on ya porch
Ya little cowards keep the gun in ya shorts
We keep the blunts and the ports to blaze up
After ya spirit raise up you still

think you can rap you need to give them days up
It's gonna cost you ya cap takin' cheap shots at us
So cuz toss me the strap and put these streets on hush
Because they full of wack ^!$$%z and they speak too much
And now we can't have that because we G too much
So I'ma end it on this fact ^!$$%'ll bleed too much
Ya keep talkin'