C'mon D roll, let's go
Yeah, sup motherf**ers?
It's your n***a Irv Gotti on the motherf**in check in
Me and my n***a sug came to bring ya the new n***as, the next n***as
Eastwood, Crooked I, Ronnie Bumps, Dave Bing, Black Child, Caddilac Tah
Santana tell these n***as what the f** is up
[Chorus]
Pain, y'all really pressin y'all luck if you tryin to bring it to us
My n***as don't play
Like them nallies in them Cadillac Trucks
For whoever ready to bust, We all about pain
Is red run and my n***as stay high (It's the roll for life)
We all about bu*ts and f**in them s*uts ma
[Eastwood]
n***a put your motherf**in hands up
I bang a roll when it's a stick-up
Double when I'm in the pick-up
And tie your loud mouth b**h up
Listen we came for murder so I'm aimin to k**
Aimin the steel, co*k it back and show me the real
I get high in the moonlight
My brains so sick, Wit a game so thick
We about to tear the frame on sh**
I'm the murderest disaster, ghetto child, thug basterd
And I can't be seen before Christ or after
[Crooked I]
n***a my left hand hold some of the best damn toast
It's Heavier than the weight on a depressed mans show
This is Crooked, the secret ambre
I put so many infa-red dots on shirt
n***as would think you was quamade
I'ma get your a** while your pa**in some indo
Blastin your benzo
And leave half of you face mashed on the pa**enger window
Then go bang your ho
Plus put her on the hood, that b**h gon bang the road
Ya know
[Chorus]
Pain, y'all really pressin y'all luck if you tryin to bring it to us
My n***as don't play
Like them nallies in them Cadillac Trucks
For whoever ready to bust, We all about pain
Is red run and my n***as stay high (It's murda for life)
We all about bu*ts and f**in them s*uts ma
[Ronnie Bumps]
What do you know about parkin a n***a (eve break in his face)
Fo-five straight shakin a n***a
You gon be crying while you crawlin
I got arms and dog I keep fallin (Ya in and out of walls)
With them same n***as that smoked my man
And I be damned if I die without a gun in my hand
From W.H. get shot die calm
Gettin buried in hate, chi-chi mind move on
[Dave Bing]
Blazin the track better known for slingin crack
Ya paid to rap now n***as jealous of that (Uh-huh)
It's eatin em up (But we still incin it up)
Screamin murda (Ya we don't give a f**)
I hate the wild on n***as, while the style on n***as (Uh-huh)
When they smile upon b**hes tell em make three wishes
But if n***as wanna front, then they end up in a trunk
On the front seat slumped
Holes in em from the pump (From the pump n***a what)
[Chorus]
Pain, y'all really pressin y'all luck if you tryin to bring it to us
My n***as don't play
Like them nallies in them Cadillac Trucks
For whoever ready to bust, We all about pain
Is red run and my n***as stay high (It's murda for life)
We all about bu*ts and f**in them s*uts ma
[Black Child]
I was a late '70's baby
Started playin wit guns and expirimented wit d** in the early '80's
You could tell the streets raised me
The way I, fondle the 380
My momma did me crazy
Don't ask about my father I didn't have a father figure
The streets was my n***a, heat was my liqour
Theres freaks in my picture anything to get richer
I was wit ya, and leave it to the lord to come get ya
[Caddillac Tah]
Yeah
Man y'all ready to go, when the gun show
Let one go for fun though
Just to let n***as see how the gun toast
C-A, Double D, I, Double L To the A To the C me
Flyin threw the hood in the C3
Nothin but gangsta is how I like it and live it
Like skies is the limit
From slingin dimes to pridics
Y'all n***as vide it b**hess
And I sensed it from the door, to senseitive for war
Pull your skirt up motherf**er it's murder
[Chorus]
Pain, y'all really pressin y'all luck if you tryin to bring it to us
My n***as don't play
Like them nallies in them Cadillac Trucks
For whoever ready to bust, We all about pain
Is red run and my n***as stay high (It's murda for life)
We all about bu*ts and f**in them s*uts ma