Mega:nYeah Knox on the beatnIt’s a C.T.E./Dipset thingnU.K. to A-Town, stand upnYeah, real talknWriter, I see younnVerse 1nMega:nI’ma ball when it come to bitches, I pick and rollnI’m in the Beamer with Christina, she dip it lownGive a fuck what ya ass thoughtnWe the reason American bitches coppin’ passportsnOi Oi, London Boys, all the groupies surenThat we have more cheese than a Gucci storenAnd yeah I’m on the pass tipnBeef, you wanna squash itnMy man dem catch bodies like a moshpit, what bitchnYou can see we grindnBelieve me I am fly like the back of the wings of that DP9nI’m in the air in that new CoupenAnd see-through roofnF a infrared my scales got a bluetoothnLots of pain when I rock the chainnIt got me lookin’ like the Hunchback of Notredame, damnnPark up the Range, hop out wit’ a scarf in the rainnHard in my game, it’s hard to explainnnHooknS.A.S.:nFake shottas that act like they G’snI ain’t inna thatnSnitch, rats, imposters, and thievesnI ain’t inna thatnTrickin’ them bitches, coppers and D’snI ain’t inna thatnWe mash bees, the mobsters with menLet’s get inna thatnMan takin’ my city for jokenI ain’t inna thatnActin’ hassadiity but brokenI ain’t inna thatnYou look silly, we pity you folksnI ain’t inna thatnWe keep it gritty wit’ millies we totenLet’s get inna thatnnVerse 2nMayhem:nWhoa, oh no, Nos CalientenDressed to kill, I’m fresh for realnIn that new super car, rims stretched the wheelnWe them young superstars givin’ vex the chills, illnExtra trill, flip O’s, move ‘cainenSex appeal, your chick knows who’s namenLet’s be real, I get dough and you lamesnCouldn’t strike the blow, I flip like my moods changednWhoa, and I’m gone againnClean up, re-up and it’s on againnThe mayor’s under, you ever seen May in summernYou would say he a major stunnanSo what’s going on mate, what the business isnAin’t nuttin’ wrong, state what ya business isnThis is real talk, we really living itnHit your premises, and leave wit no witnessesnnHooknnVerse 3nSlick Pulla:nPulla man, I tote two smokin’ bountiesnFor the cash I might Snatch yo’ ass like Brad PittnBake the layer cake, yea it’s all in the mixnAndre Agasee, it’s all in the wristnStand-up guys, don’t fuck wit’ you queersnWit’ toast we deliver the block, we go cheznAsk Rocky, he know ‘bout them Georgia boysnHe knows how we roll, strapped up wit’ a couple toysnYeah, and I style on hatersnWhen I yok on that block thing, they call it Snick BatersnCookies in a plastic bag, vanilla wafersnIt’s a yes with the steel, we’ll flambe yannHook