[Big Pokey:]
It’s a bunch of niggaz, knocking my hustling
I’m on the grind going hard out the trunk, like Rocky when rushing
A empty clip, the only thang stop me from busting
When I roll nigga folding, it’s not a discussion
Ask yourself this question, what’s colder than Dina
It’s a bunch of money on my den, fuck rolling a beamer
Go hard or go home, hoe you know I’m a dreamer
With the heart to go and get it, how you know I’m a schemer
Sensei need a bad bitch, I’m looking for Trina
Put this ham in they yams, have her looking for Xena
We hit the do’ like a battle ram, me and my team
I pop bottles every now and then, but me I’m a leaner
It’s a small world, play pussy get fucked
Like a call girl, bout to fold it like a tall world
Fuck what they say-a, dog I’m some’ing like a playa
Bitches know me everywhere, motherfucker I’m all world
[Mike D:]
I’m some’ing like a playa, some’ing like a pimp
Catch me at Papa Deauxxx, eating lobsters and shrimps
Y’all know who it is, and I’m right back at it
It’s Boss Hogg Corleone, now come on ride with me daddy
Across the state line, I do it every time
It ain’t hard to tell, how I’m on my grind
I’m like a Carl Smitty, in his prime time
But you can get it there, we riding for the same side
Then you done fucked up, gave me life again
MJ when I point em out, I want em all dead men
It’s the Don, but every nigga in my click a boss
From Den Den to Lil’ Duke, and Big H.A.W.K.
Clay-Doe, 6-4, can’t forget Bamino
Red D and Rhino, 3-2 and Danny Boy
C to the F to the E
Get your mind right trick, when you fucking with me
I’m all world, imagine just starving my baby girls
Niggaz ain’t ready, I’ma let the K hurl
You done fucked up, and let me grab a couple hundred
And in a minute, I’ma go on ahead and start stunting
For the summer, riding down on these cock-a-roaches
Man they shouldn’t of talked down, on the Costra Nosta
Boss Hogg Corleone, that’s me
The black Osama, taking over this biatch
[Chris Ward:]
It’s the M.O.B., H-O double G
S.U.C., raw ass nigga
I’m that ghetto ass, gutter gangsta
Gritty, Y.S.P. ass nigga
All these new comers, wanna be like me
I can’t help it, y’all get off my D-I-C
That’s from me to you nigga, stamp signed and sealed
Bout to let these niggaz know, that I grind for scrill
All these niggaz round here cap, like I don’t shine for real
That’s why I walk around, lookng like I just signed a deal
Got bout 40 on my chest, a dime on my wrist
And three quarts of that dime, on the same hand’s fist
I make them all boppers, be like girl look at Chris
That nigga other hand, look like frozen yellow piss
Is this, what it’s about
These lyrics that I spit out, is nasty once they get out
I contaminate the streets, I contaminate the booth
I contaminate the South, when I speak the truth
You might see in some’ing, looking like a nasty mustard stain
The top is butterscotch, and the guts is caine
All these motherfuckers asking, what’s my name
It’s C. Ward motherfucker, it’s a must I came
My nust they hang, just like my Boss Hogg chain
You see I’m in it for the change, motherfuck the fame nigga
[E.S.G.:]
Now guess who back and I’m hungry, I ain’t aten my lunch
Always into something, bad apple out the bunch
Fuck a punchline, I’m throwing hate back like jabs
Knocking fake slim niggaz, off the motherfucking slab
Hate nigga game I’ma take it back, wanna know how I got my stacks
Pablo came and gave me packs, stuck on mack and swang in Lacs
Blue and yellow stones, it’s hard to look
Ice bucket on my chest, smelling like master cook
At the age 15, young guerilla in the jungle
Moving quarter ki’s, and weed for my uncle
Call me Ashton Kutcher, bitch niggaz I punk ya
Houston Tex call me Shrek, I’m a S.U.C. monster
Mike Jones had it wrong, see Screw is the Don
Whoever up next, only carried the baton
Put in city where I’m from, I was born in the booth
Had a murder charge in 9-5, I ain’t scared to shoot
Candy red or blue coupe, I’m so executive
CEO status, you need a code where I live
I left the gates open, you cupcakes hoping
That you could rob the real Boss, I never leave my safe open
Leave your face smoking, I’m a gangsta to the fullest
A box of cigarillos, a new box of bullets
So when I pull it, you bitch niggaz know the song
Me and Mike D, sipping purple and Patrone
Back back yep, in a 300 M’s
Black, with the motherfucking all black rims
Known for serving fiends, straight dropping screens
These devils trying to clip my wings, call me Constantine
Bitch I be a pimp, I ain’t slowing down
It’s E and the Boss Hogg, bitch we hold it down
Yeah bitch niggaz, you niggaz all girls
E.S.G., Poke and Mike D yeah we all world
[talking:]
Uh E.S.G., what’s up MJ
Take Over year, right here
I got my nigga in here, Lil’ 3rd
Bout to wreck this bitch
[Lil’ 3rd:]
I’m the Cloverland’s finest, I ain’t talking bout body-wise
Armageddon 16’s on the rise, and body guards
Stones on my chest, change colors like models eyes
Blowing kush smoke, purple syrup slanging them powder pounds
Fired up down proof, and the slash is motorized
Can’t let niggaz see it, cause these boys is motomized
Style is mobster, West is saying C. Whoadie ride
E.S.G. and Mike D, pull up swanging the Rover wide
Claim Screwed Up Click, but you niggaz not notarized
Tails stuck in they ass, when a nigga get notified
Fuck squashing the beef, cause Lil’ 3rd fa sho to ride
That boy hunt pump shit, I can see it in both his eyes
K doing FED time, while I ain’t thinking wise
Mean boxing game, AK and a shank and nine
King of Cloverland, it ain’t nothing to compromise
Sweet as a honey bun, and you filled up with bunch of lies
If you a G, why you traumatized
A lil’ fame got this nigga head, big as a Hummer tire
[Grace:]
Put the chase all in your face, and rap at pace like them tommy guns
Busting your discussion, go-getter making suckers run
Pimping pens for ends, setting trends one of the ones
Day one dirt doer, underground like C and Bun
Bring it on, rep the click and stay standing strong
Calculator’s what they call me, I’m the one that they counting on
Garunteed like F, underground funky like bad breath
Game runner give it to em, lay em down like bad health
We steady rapping for Screw, salute a flag that’s blue
Until I’m gone it’s on, like yellow west keep it true
Ya see I’m repping like I’m stepping, busting like auto weapons
That same boy G-R-A-C-E, got them Screw Heads recollecting
Another day another dub, Kalluminatti still riding high
Till the end and this the year, to tell them hoe niggaz bye-bye
I’m so for real with the skills, equipped and ready to kill
You flip like floozies in heels, rat and roaches catching steel
