[Intro: Free Murda]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Rest in peace Dirt McGirt, yeah, yeah

Yeah, rest in peace Jeff Row, let's go, Brooklyn...

[Chorus x2: Free Murda]

Left arm over chest, right arm over left
See them ^!$$%s on the steps, keep them ^!$$%s in check
Cuz I'm bossed up, ^!$$%, I'm bossed up, ^!$$%

I'm bossed up, ^!$$%, yeah, I'm bossed up, ^!$$%

[Free Murda:]

A lotta ^!$$%s gonna snitch, once I draw that hammer
Couple of inches from the trigger, is where I force the banana
Clip, go and trip, like a floor that's damped, chump

Got peeps who got spots, about four in Atlanta
Been through cribs, just before the doors cameras
You go down the hall, you'll be 'los' like Angeles

Pop by the tech, in the grave you lay
If you clock my neck like Flava Flav
^!$$%, but anyway holmes, my name in your dame phone

Didn't even drop, and I got my own ringtone
Now I'm bout to pop, get my ^!$$% Haze home
He something like a rock, the way my ^!$$% stays stone

Off this piff, you need more people on the sec
Or it'll have you like Joker dog, Chico on his back
From Friday, my man'll put a deep hole in your hat

That go through the front and like a peephole on the back

[Chorus x2]


[Free Murda:]
I ain't try'nna say you wack, achi, don't get me wrong

When I rap, they say that's crack, like Bobby and Whitney on
Don't do what you spit, probably'll get you gone
If the shoe don't fit, sorry it give you corns

What you on my dick for, better be out fast
For I pull out 'big boy', and he ain't from Outkast
Make big noise, have the whole crowd dash

^!$$%s see them big toys, and they know we bout cash
Troops swarm, borough form when they see me
My boots got bubbles on 'em, yo those ACG's

Got a APB, out on fake MC's
Who want to play CDs, put my face on tee's
All my mans got cake, hundred grand on cars

Parking lots out of space, like it land on Mars
(*##$es in my face, put my hand on broads
Til my dick stand up like the hair on Marge


[Chorus x2]