[JT]. We on our third song we on our third song heyyeyy. You understand it I'm official with mine; I'm double-clutchin. on the fo'-wheel pushin quarters like niggaz doin dope deals. Fo' cut 50 like a verse and a half. I cut the brick and now we countin the math we 'bout that birdplay. My crew's committed you dudes gon' get it. Have a seat you through when I'm finished my troopers is fitted. Got 'em posted out in Brooklyn Hollis Queens to the Bridge. We in the studio the Figgaro done did it again. We got factors out in the ditch where they smackin a bitch. I got homies out in the Bronx where they bustin at cops. It ain't no game with the underground came from the underground. Pushin a hundred thousand we out the trunk never browsin. JT another boss from the Bay. And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre what'chu say nigga?. JT another boss from the Bay. And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre motherfucker. [Nina B]. Hey yo it seem to me like e'rybody got they own truth. Believe me I'm in them sheets like phonebooths. I play the game I was born to score. But I'm a lil' too cute for them corner stores. A little too known to stand on the block. And a lil' too eager to sit in the spot. Mami I'm from the Eastside yup yes that side. Heads fly if I open ya chest that wide. Gimme a bad vibe end up on ya backside. Or you can get your back and side splatted in back of ya ride. And I can make it happen if I don't make it rappin. This lump of Satan I'm packin thrash 'em with a major passion. I slash ya face and fracture you flashin in the latest fashion. And have you dashin from Manhattan all the way to Aspen. Your shit is whack heard your tape and had to take an aspirin. Step ya game up. [instrumental break]. [unknown Get Low male]. Listen before I get up in the mornin I ask the Lord for strength. Tryin to get my niggaz out the hood you know how the forces get. It's like the devil got a hold of my neck. And I'm gettin this change runnin 'round reppin my set. Momma used to look at me funny; she could tell her baby boy changed. Must be out there gettin some money. But it's a price for everything you know how the game go. For them birds niggaz'll cock back the calico. Now you introduced to the beef what'chu gon' do now?. Bitch up skid in your crib or pull them tools out?. A lot of niggaz is real a lot of niggaz is fake. A lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake hands with Jake. [another Get Low male]. Fuck what'chu heard I startled your brain. I hit the spot like a {?} in ballers and jeans. On some eighty-eight shit more "Raw" than Kane. It's not my fault she looked at me - you better talk to your dame. That's just part of the game and you got served. Who got nerve cause Lethal hard like Tupac words. And why y'all Chucks always actin like tough guys. You must be trippin or you slippin on mudslides. And in the hood you see it's different from one time. What's your bloodline play the strip to the sunshine. And I don't even know why I'm wastin my breath. I oughta be like Makaveli and be fakin my death. I keep that good shit it's tastin so fresh. And all y'all sloppy Joe niggaz yo y'all makin a mess. We on the way to yo' nap so put your tapes in the deck. And spit in a hundred bars straight without breakin a sweat