[Featuring C-Bo, Celly Cel]

B-Legit:

Bitch I got beam like Scotty

Leave you spotty

When I point this aim at your brain

And leave them hollow thangs in your body

Lodi-dodi I drinks Bacardi

Gets dick hard drunk

When I'm off that skunk punk

And you don't wanna dance tingo tango

I let my left right mingle mangle

To your jaw southpaw

It oughta be a law against these thangs I throw

About to lay some shit down with Celly Cel and Bo

From the Garden Blocc

Hillside got they Glock

Mack 10's

Mobb shit'll neva end

I'm tryin' to have it all

So I ball 'till I'm gold

Mobbin' through a sixty usin' cruise control

C-Bo:

I'm fuckin' wit that click nigga

That big nigga on the block

With Glocks, Rag Tops

Cut thangs on them gold knocks

Better watch your back 'cuz we strapped with teks

Push up in a blue Lex'

And dump caps to your neck

Mobb shit

Bustaz all die

Leather trench

Brim and two nines

Costume of a killa

At your bed side holdin' on two millas

Uggh we bust them teks close range

Livin' estranged

Called insane

'Cuz when it's on it's on site no matter night or day

And you can't fuck wit these

Get smothered with a half a key

Bitch

Celly Cel:

Give me the ball and I'ma fill the lane like 'Fenney

Hardaway 'cuz I'm out to get every penny

Any nigga disrespectin' when I'm checkin' for my scrilla

I know'm stilla wig splittin' killa ain't no realla

Nigga realla than me

Mobbin' through your hood and takin' heads

Sl