Hold it   Now you get out of here, I'm warning you   You bastards can't push us around, wanna fight?   I'll take you on      That nigga's twisted, stop playin' with that clip man   Close them fuckin' blinds too man, y'knahmsayin'?   Yo, Don my, man, get out of the stove, man   Get away from the stove, nigga   Stop playin' man, the fuck is you talkin' 'bout?      I'm in the crib watchin' Larry King Live   The new Guccis on refrigerator, smokin' some kush   This nigga's a lighter swisher, becomin' a roach   Go get the glass ashtray, pour the glass of Crut   Tap the bottle then toast      Barrie took a sip for the cause, yeah my son   Soon to be three, tried to fill his bottle then run   Then I got a collect call, heard niggaz down the block is fightin'   Some nigga got, knifed up brawlin'      Heard the kid was nineteen, Lil' Infinity too   His father worked up at the dealer, he loved boo   They tried him for his Louis', son wasn't havin' it though   Yeah, yeah, my nigga, the color of glue      Decided on a intervene, guess who tried to wild on me my nigga   This is like out of the blue   I'm in the Range stretch, jumped out, tucked the chain   Proceeded to talk to him, then you heard the heavy face slap      Think I broke my wrist, now I'm at the hospital vexed   Fucked up my writing hand, that's my check   Now I wanna kill this lil' nigga true   Only thing that stop my gun flamin' 'cause he related to you      Who? He ain't related to me   Just that I knew him for like eighteen years until he violated   Stealin' my gear   If my lil' homey, yo he eat anything for me      Send him uptown, he get bagged, yo he never call me   Come home and still blow cats for me   Pump crack, stabbin' all them hoodrat shorties   A live gunslinger well known, born to dance when the heat is on      Stapleton days, shoot himself in the groin'   The gun went off, it looked like a flick   When he fell to the floor, holdin' his nuts   Screamin' "God damnit, shit I put one in my balls"      What the fuck y'all lookin' at me for?   Call the police, do somethin'   Motherfuckers standin' around, watch when I get better   All hell's gonna be terror   Death to you, you," he pointed at Red      I said chill that's fam duke   He put real work in that make you cute, fuck that   But anyway, son, indeed, he stole two Polo rugbies   Swore to his dead mother, I couldn't take it      Yo, Lord, I knocked out his teeth   Now he's rockin' those false joints like everything's peace