[Freddie Gibbs] Yeah, Yeah I know you feel it right I'm bout to k** it right I know you feel it right I'm bout to k** it right I know you feel it right Yo, f** the dumb sh** I step off on this motherf**in' jammin' Got my package i'm bout to get this motherf**er slammin' Give me 6 for the zip, I need 22 for the cutie 65 for the whole enchilida, that tootie fruitie No this ain't a movie but all my sentences cinematic Yes I started rappin', wrappin' the crack in my n***a attic Flowin' to myself and next thing you know it was automatic Rap is full of f*ggots so i'm ecstatic about my status Straight gangsta razor in the mouth sh** f** all the love songs that keep Pee Herman outfits I get my thug on cause that's just what i'm down wit n***as raised on food stamps and public housing Cause my poppa was a copper so other children didn't wanna play with me Had to go extra harder to show 'em there was no fake in me Dealers, k**ers and bakers relate to me Cause I never been a b**h or a snitch, smokin' gun can't alpha omega me Hustlin', I got that sh** from my uncle, pimpin' I picked it up from my grandaddy I'm from the ghetto not Degra**i, so I I rapidly spit it and give 'em the visual flow in the same rhyme I'm out on bail and on probation at the same time Motherf** a P.O. and all his police amigos I get slammin' in that caddy, like slab (?) bumpin' that Z-Ro Went from Brooklyn to the G with a key of D in the GO These n***as singin' like Ne-Yo and takin' D on the d-low Snitches pointed out my spot to the people but i was ditchen' em Once I hit the fence I got the dippin' like Harry Dickinson Sugar sick and demented for Benjamins Same n***as that sh**ted on me and didn't pay attention I got 'em listenin' Gibbs, n***a