Verse 1 
Shhh (two guns up mothafucka, two guns up mothafucka (overlap)) 
Real shit...styles p shit.. 
If p want you dead, i aint comin' wit niggas 
Just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor 
So ya homies got something to pour 
That's that old school shit 
I aint tryin' to put you under the floor 
I'm tryin' ta bang niggas over the clouds 
And i heard you say you rich 
So you can't get lower than styles 
Kill everybody dead just so noone can smile 
Play the streets my whole life and i been flowin' a while 
Biget i rock, ever since my nigga was shot and my other nigga 
Was shoot shit i'm tellin' the truth 
If i lie, may i die in the middle of the verse 
My niggas hustle from first to first 
Twelve months in a year 
Gun on your waist, blunt in your ear 
Pat in your sock, trade at the back of the block 
With a fein watchin' for knorx till the shit get dark 
We jump in the hoop ride, instead of the six 
While you lookin' for a bitch, we lookin' for a brick 
That we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix 
Catch me on "?" gettin' sixty a shift 
Holidy styles, nigga i aint nothin' but streets 
Just as hard as the shit, that be under your feet 
And the only time i front is with a blunt and a beat 
To show niggas that i'm nice and they aint fuckin' wit me 
Chorus 
Felony niggas 
Cop cock heavily niggas 
That'd arm rob seventy niggas 
You know 
Murderin' niggas 
You want doe, they servin' you niggas 
Stay on fifth, gettin' swervin' on niggas 
You know 
Wheather we ryde or we die we gonna get this doe 
Verse 2 
All i know is drugs and guns 
And plenty of weed 
And that bitch that suck dick 
And niggas that bleed 
And if you're rich before you go 
Get a watch and a drop 
You better hit the court house 
And better bail out the block 
If your son aint worth shit 
Niggas'll smuggle your daughter 
I come through in a porshe 
The same color as water 
I got weight, what you want 
I can cover the order 
They call me boss when i cross the border 
Six shot "caught her?" 
I hear niggas say my face is screwed 
But i'll put six in your stomach nigga 
Lace your food 
Scream "fuck every rapper" that hate that i'm rude 
But that's that sp shit, you can take it or move 
We can let the bullets spill, till we all get killed 
There's only six nice rappers 
If you wanna be real 
Niggas die everyday from talking that dumb shit 
That where they're from shit 
All that mean to me is you can get your gun quick 
Just another dumb bitch 
Go to church to get the holy ghost 
I did my dirt and got the holy ghost 
Look at the world through a niggas eyes 
Dont be a bitch, you gonna live and die 
Rivin' in the sky, but no love when you slither by 
I pray to god that we make it to heaven 
But the only thing we makin' is channel eleven 
You know four, five and seven, hot as fuck 
And every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us 
But since niggas still alive they should be tellin you somethin' 
You aint hear from holiday, he aint tellin' you nothin' 
You know..cocksucker.. 
Chorus (2x) 
(skit)