Yo when I'm out in Oakland catch me in the silver and black Coupe. With two Desert Eagles and an ounce of glue. When I'm out in San Fran the P.D. real nervous. Cause they know I'm packin heat under the Willie Mays jersey. Nigga it ain't nuttin for me to empty a clip. Or wave my guns in the air and just enter ya strip. I know about gangs had shootouts with plenty of Crips. I sold crack and been out of town with plenty of bricks. So ain't nuttin you can tell me about the game. Come with beef and leave here without your brains. And I'ma drive upstate and try to bounce this 'caine. In that Shelby the same color as moutanin rain. And you know I got the South clickin. Cause ain't nuttin like niggaz with gold teeth and them down South chickens. So fuck with my D and get found wit'cha mouth missin. This ain't about you and me it's about business nigga. [Chorus: repeat 2X]. It's business never personal real live on blocks. If we ain't movin the rocks then we movin the stocks. Cross a hustler motherfucker you'll arrive in a box. It's the true to life struggle 'til we arrive on top. [JT]. They don't understand me like the Birdman I got candy. Put the herb in I got family. I'm doin 85 in the 50-mile-an-hour lane. Tryin to handle my business the Figgaro stack change. Independent tycoons (tycoons) - yeah. My niggaz puff trees snort coke and chew shrooms. Bad to the bone (to the bone). And cain't trust a nigga for shit cause Feds on the phone. My whole crew dirty fuckin with amphetamines. Catch you slippin blow your whole crew to smitharines. Now the streets knowin (knowin). And I'ma run this shit back with my foot broke like Terrell Owens. Still blowin. Like Mike Jones of the Swishahouse gold knock them bitches outs. We take trips out to Houston and D.C.. For the West coast nigga can you feel me?. [Chorus]