Verse One: Turk. In the Lex we gettin blunted. Fuckin hoes and countin money. Niggas bout anything head bustin and rap hustlin. Niggas that seventeen playin wit cake nigga. Nigga disrespcetin mine look we pullin triggas. Leavin em foul plus me and Juvenile we blastin. Nigga ya lights out we aint bout no playin and laughin. Whoever try ta stop us from shinnin. Four karat choppers out the window start to firing. Tag-teamin is a must for me and my rounds. I catch one he catch one thats how its goin down. Fuckin right we do it once play them hoes like that. While I get my dick sucked he hit the bitch from the back. We spend cash with each other. Toss ass with each other. And if a nigga play with us spin a bin with each other. Fuckin right. We click tight. Nothin come in between. Tommy chopper can fall paper chasin that green. Chorus: Juvenile. There once was a nigga and his name was Turk. He always shot balled and he put in his work. Until one dy he was bustin' with a dude. Then he hit'em with the K knocked'em ouuta his shoes. Verse Two: B.G.. B.G. and Turk on fire true H.B.s. In my down low Camaro blowin' them weeds. Its a must we stay vest up cuz we worth a lot of chesse. Told them haters we was goin' nation they didn't believe. Ca$h Money worth figuers and it aint no joke. We aint never been no hoe. So run up in ya smoke. I tote a chopper in the trunk 9 and Mac on the seat. Tuesday and thursday I lay low task force on they sweep. On Sunday I'm out shinnin'. On the lake on crome straight blindin'. Me and my round off in Whispers Big Tymin'. Ask them hoes where the bar ya thank I'm lyin'. At our concerts in helicopters we flyin'. Aint no secret niggas hatin' niggas dyin'. Chorus: Juvenile. There once was a nigga name Baby G (B.G.). He drove around town with a 223. Until oneday he was bustin' with a dude. So he hit'em with the K and knocked'em outta his shoes. Verse Three: Hot Boys. B.G.: Playin' with us nigga off top we'll hurt cha. Me and the lil Turksta down ta fuckin' twerk ya. Turk: They got a lot of niggas hatin' on me and the B.G.. Get in our way we'll smoke ya leave ya wet in the street. B.G.: AKs and SK rifles I tote them. Playa hata and balla blocka I smoke them. Turk: Now when we ride we ride fly stunt like a Ac (Acura). We love ta shine get down and dirty in black. B.G.: I ride in sharp cars and I make a lot of feddi. Ya need years ta prepare ta fade me ya aint ready. Turk: We'll leave ya block shook. Fuck ya hoe and get a hook. Nigga who try sizin' up get they life took. B.G.: I don't play dawg I got a resume to prove it. Rub me the wrong way I'ma draw down and start shootin'. Turk: For my nigga I'll blast be the first ta hit the set. Cock back the Mac and let bullets eject. Chorus: Juvenile. There once was some niggas out the CMB. Some out the mario some out that wild T.C.. Until one day they was bustin with some dudes. So they hit em with the K knocked em outta they shoes. Uh knocked em outta they shoes. T.C. nigga knocked em outta they shoes. V.L. nigga knocked em outta they shoes. They knocked em outta they shoes. Hot Boy$ knocked em outta they shoes. B.G. knocked em outta they shoes. Nigga Turk knocked em outta they shoes. The H.B.s knocked em outta they shoes. My nigga Baby knocked em outta they shoes. My nigga Manny knocked em outta they shoes. Knocked em outta they shoes. Knocked em outta they shoes.