We choppin' raw game, clutchin' on the triggers, smokin' on the party blood with me and all

my niggas.

Me and all my niggas.

We hit some hard like the con on the ground, and when time comes around, we put it down.

Sippin' on that passion fruit, real niggas ain't got no time for bein' cute.

Strappin' on my boots and a hat for the great outdoors, and put my loot in hyper suit.

Packin' on a four cab with my four recruit, when my guns draw down, make all of my niggas

change they frown, never make no mute.

Nigga, with the twenty -one clock, and the top of the clock, and knock em cold.

Four by block with the fifteen shot, split up the block and rock and roll.

Yo, nigga, who been in it a minute, that's why I always start from the beginning.

Back in the Burbank days, my niggas do anything to get paid.

I'm down seven dudes to the low, block with a four -ten game, take a left, jump right,

roll the crane.

But the long -awaited niggas felt so much pain.

Every time we refresh out of jail, we was right back up and change the game.

I'm down seven dudes to the low, block with a four -ten game, take a left, jump right,

roll the crane.

But the long -awaited niggas felt so much pain.