[Verse 1: King Chip]
... Springfield on me, I'm from Cleveland homie
Got my gun license whoadie ain't no swinging on me
ni**a we gets it it fo sho' b*tch I ain't no ho
That ??? sh*t is cool fo sho' I'm from Saints Row
Ain't no re up game though ni**a with money just lay low
Y'all ni**a do what I say so don't end up rocking no halo (b*tch)
Two Jordans ain't outchea, all black is my outfit
My hood ain't play no games this year .... b*tch
Up in Queens with OG P, we on the extra real
We living legends from the hood, ain't got no record deal
I'm dropping like twenty in a months still, cop a new weapon change a grill
Pretty girls came for sex you leave nah if you came to chill
Y'all ni**a with plenty cake, X6 on 28's
You play around with your salary, I know your boss you finna hate
Come to club don't pay me down got a hammer homie got an OZ
Yeah that what's up and show some love but keep movin' y'all know me b*tch
[Hook (2x):]
What's the prognosis I'm focused about my bacon strips
What's your agenda I'm never off point my clique
We still the dopest the coldest the most dangerous
We still the dopest the coldest the most dangerous
[Verse 2: Kliff Notez]
The coldest most dangerous, my affiliates most dangerous
Guns we trust murder rock, shake 'em like some princess cuts
Give me gums with bubble bu*ts, f*ck ?
This infamous legend life riders in the Harley truck
We can tell ain't hardly bust, what's the smell of powder puff
Triple cross and wide ni**a streets out here f*ck you up
Pussy call it fall on me, snitches ain't no referee
Take that chain what you want, b*tch I'm on that money train
Move 'em like some liquid cane, ni**as sweet as sugar cane
Smack 'em through that windowpane, ho ass ni**a I'm bout these raps
Bustin' traps and bouncin' back, 22 pounds of that hundred stacks
2 pounds of that duffle bag, scale you can tear that back
Chips is at lay in the trap, lay in the bush is payback black
Ain't gon' be no I be back, I be sure to finish clap
OG's call me little me, cause they can't get rid of me
My top just like ?, you kidding me what's the prognosis
[Hook (2x):]
What's the prognosis I'm focused about my bacon strips
What's your agenda I'm never off point my clique
We still the dopest the coldest the most dangerous
We still the dopest the coldest the most dangerous
[Verse 3: Prodigy]
I still pop a few drugs, pop a little bub get a low neck
For my little jump bunny in the projects
She like my swag there's no contest
Perignon P that's me, that's me, no doubt, no doubt, I'm next
Leave this mic and pick my teeth
Always my man is passed tooth pick
A little dessert that'll work what's on the menu
Some basement track tell than to let loose
Some real hot sh*t that burn like pistols
And DJs won that instrumental
That murder that fire that killed the plane and serving fiends
They wanna get higher and higher we got what they need
This that hit a ni**a with the back when the ni**a wanna act like upward in
What a really is showing what it is and a better ni**a never do that again
ni**as emotional like Carl Thomas
I hurt your feelings and I'm not sorry
The autobiography of the hardest artist I draw your blood
Test my hand I test my aim and Etch-a-sketch but on your face
Canary stoolies when a jammie up and have a ni**a catch a brand new case
I know your style you so tough tell a ??? knock out your brain
I tell on that dead man no make no statements and can't cooperate
[Hook (2x):]
What's the prognosis I'm focused about my bacon strips
What's your agenda I'm never off point my clique
We still the dopest the coldest the most dangerous
We still the dopest the coldest the most dangerous