[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
