[Verse 1: Grimm] Automatics kick it Reloaded, streets done exploded But hold it Laws all control it, all my soldies devoted Loc's are focused on the bullets, (???) lead lotus Pour some more, cause I got love for my dead homies Bred bogus Reminiscin' 'bout the days Gettin' blazed, stayin' paid, cook my yay in microwaves I was raised, ballin' pays, off the pages of gangsta ways Sharp as razor blades Hard to fade my race In your face Place to place, flippin' channels Got the dope within the panels, from the valley to Ingrando Nothing we can't handle Mexicanos out of Texas Runnin' with the best, cous', f** with nothing less, cous' Chorus: Grimm Boy, don't you hide it Roll it up and light it It's how we do it in the south east When you ride, you gotta pack your piece It's all the same up in the north east Boy, don't you hide it Roll it up and light it It's how we do it in the north west Put to rest if you ain't wearing your vest It's all the same down in the south west (Verse 2) [Lil' Bing] The FEDs on me (FEDs on me) I reminisce about my dead homie (Dead homie) Nine in the vest, they tryin' to put some lead on me (Lead on me) Cops on the licks, robbin' boys nonsense Who's next with the plex, we knockin' boys off the deck I'm known to wreck, I'm Bing, I ain't gon' drop my flag I'll drop my sample up, and I'll drop your a** Pull out and smash Just a youngsta about his cash I'm the first and I'm the last, I-K-E, bring it back [Ike Man (Lil' Bing in background)] With south fiends on lock Grimm, Ike and Bing's on top South east, we wreck shop I'm gon' blast for the block Murder, murder with the Glock, n***a We bust shots, n***a With dead dots, n***a The FED's hot We the realest and what not, be k**ers that won't stop You n***as is gon' drop f**in' with the wrong block Off the top, this one here's for my dead homie (Dead homie) I'm over here, reminiscin' when you bled on me (Bled on me) Repeat Chorus [Verse 3: Grimm] The game's had its worst Riding your homie in the hearse No prayer for his soul, at the church, still it hurts To know that he's gone Thought he'd live long Hard to stay strong, wanna know what went wrong Still ain't nothing you could do to bring your homie back Steady puff, pour the brew, and remember rollin' 'Llacs Now, we mourn the Pat And the 'Pac and the B.I.G.'s Eazy-E and Scholar Rock, forever lives In the minds and hearts, of players, ballers and pimps That done refine the arts, of proper measurements Settin' precedents, for all the hustlers to come That live and die by the gun, but still gon' ride til that time comes Repeat Chorus