Ain’t yellin’ “Cut!” when it’s shootin’ time
Sign up, it’s recruitin’ time
Big wigs, with a suit and tie
And them big things got two inside
Fuck wrong wit’ these ho niggas?
Don’t do coke, I don’t blow niggas
I don’t tell niggas, I show niggas
And it’s never less than like four niggas
(Four-four) Four wings and some French fries
Hot sauce and ketchup nigga
He telling and he hiding
But real niggas still catch a nigga
Cop ‘Raris, I don’t test drive ’em
Home theaters, can’t Best Buy ’em
These niggas that I roll with
Don’t let a single thing get by ’em
King pins and them drug lords
Chi-Town, no gun laws
Broke bitches that talk shit?
Now them the bitches I stunt for
Malcolm X daughter came at me
Lookin’ ass niggas ain’t happy
Rolled out with some Latin Kings
And some eses in ’em plain khakis
Smack bitches, no smack cam
Closed fists, no back hands
Pop pussy on a hand stand
They suckin’ dick like it’s band camp
Call Webb and then call Nitti
Queens niggas in, it’s all hoodies
Kidnappin’ and then rob niggas
Call D-Roc for a biggie
Pussy ass little rap niggas
I fucked with real trap niggas
Pop star, icon
But I send niggas, come snatch niggas
I’m with EBK, you on EBT
Got a black nine, call it BET
School niggas, get a GED
And I tease niggas, make em B-E-G
Got a money fetish, I’ma fly to Venice
Got a big house, I can play some tennis
Lil Herb, what’s good?
I’m a bad bitch and I fuck good

[G Herbo:]
Know a couple niggas that’s down to ride for a homicide
When it’s drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin’
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
1-50, I’m really with it
I’ll drop his ass and then forget it
I’m the man ’round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it

I’m a young nigga, I be gettin’ money
Take your bitch from you
And these niggas don’t get no respect
I’ma stay 100 ’til I’m six under
Matter fact, I gotta keep it 150
For every nigga that’s gon’ come with me
I’m on Roc Block with a new semi
And a blue Bentley, it do 160
Smoke a lot a of weed, like fuck kidneys
Put a dutch in me, got a 40 on me
I don’t trust any, and if any nigga ever try to end me
I’ma die shooting, prayin’ God forgive me
You too busy hating, you can’t get no paper
Why are y’all so silly? Straight killers
I can call so many, I don’t love no bitches
But my mom, my sister, my gun and Nicki
I’m in Hollywood, came from Kingston Food
Shorties standing, in the streets with tools
Where I’m from we don’t play no games
Ain’t no April fools, you will make the news
Where I hang, we don’t say no names
If you talk to cops, I stay away from you
Keep your mouth shut in them investigations
You’ll be out the station, in a day or two
Dedication and a little patience
Lead to domination on my way to greatness
Don’t put yourself up in a situation
Puttin’ my relations, in your conversations
Shoot a opposition, with no hesitation
You get my position, then you better take it
Know some young bulls from a while back
Tryna leave the game but they never made it
I got old shit, killin’ your shit
On a couple tracks I just never played it
Pussy nigga you don’t want war
I got old clips bitch I’m Baron Davis
Pussy nigga you don’t want war
I got old clips bitch I’m Baron Davis

Know a couple niggas that’s down to ride for a homicide
When it’s drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin’
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
One-fifty, I’m really with it
I’ll drop his ass and then forget it
I’m the man ’round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it

Gang, gang, gang shit man
You already know how I’m rocking man
This is G Herbo, shout out Nicki Minaj, you already know man
SB just gave me the .9 with the green beam
Just give me the green light
Letting niggas have it man
We pulling up anywhere wetting shit man
Got 50s in them TECs, 50s in them MACs man
30s in them Glocks, 17 shot Berettas, all that shit man
Sawed offs, pumps man what you want?
How you want it, where you want
When you want it man, let’s get it
And I ride dolo from state to state
Even when I ain’t 150 man Chiraq all the way to Queens
Let’s get it

[Nicki Minaj:]
Uh-huh, I always got a trick up my sleeve
I might give you a new trick every week
‘Til this album drop, I don’t know
I figured they want some more, I’ma give you some more
Ask Webb if I wasn’t taking them trips, with ’em nigga!
Chea!