[Verse 1: Malice]

You'll never catch these fugitives, this high speed

With hoppin' water, see-thru blue on jet skis

They twist trees, bangin' they head to my single

Meanwhile we minglin' with chicks that's bilingual

Haters be like we sick of them, niggas in the whip sippin' gin

Switchin' lanes without signalin'

But they watch they mouth, cause my dogs they ignorant

While I'm laid back, rockin' the Link, fuck what ya'll think

Stress-free, index finger mixing my drink

You see we hot like two 4-5th with gold clips

Ain't none of y'all fuckin' with this, it's hopeless

Malice on that raw Shawshank, cut your throat shit

[Hook: Clipse]

This is for my thug hustlers, dealers and gun runners

To my niggas locked, holdin' it down in body numbers

Think of the Clipse with the whole clique in black Hummers

Stackin' them chips and let them tricks get nothing from us

My thug hustlers, dealers and gun runners

To my niggas locked, holdin' it down in body numbers

Think of the Clipse with the whole clique in black Hummers

Stackin' them chips and let them tricks get nothing from us

[Verse 2: Noreaga]

I'm wit' Kurupt, in L.A., you know, my main homie

Readin' books by thugs, it's like Monster Cody

Get on some N.O. shit, like what up woady

Hey yo, off top, I'm like Puff, just won't stop

I get drunk and hit them hoes with the Smirnoff cock

Neptunes lace the beat that'll rock your block

I'm movin' on like Mya and Silkk

We don't mix like Henny and milk

I got the cover and grill

Now, everybody a thug, look what I built

I keep it hot, while them sissy niggas been done chill

I let 'em live, you know I could've had them killed

Five thousand and one, stay laced by Troy

Fuck with Nore then you know that you some dumb boy

Me and Clipse got clips for ya'll faggots and boys

What!

[Hook: Clipse]

This is for my thug hustlers, dealers and gun runners

To my niggas locked, holdin' it down in body numbers

Think of the Clipse with the whole clique in black Hummers

Stackin' them chips and let them tricks get nothing from us

[Verse 3: Kurupt]

I blaze bombs, nowadays it's like Vietnam

My nigga Nore run 'round wit' a Glock in his palm

I'm a specialist at this with, twist cock assist (what's that)

All your money homie, ain't nothin' funny homie

You gotta fat bitch, I bet she can eat a big fat dick with them big ass lips

Triangle the game, changin' the game

Sweet arrange, make all the hoes bounce

Neptunes, blaze an ounce

Now all the hoes strippin', all the niggas trippin'

D.P. dippin', sippin', hittin' switches

What you tryin' to do homie, tryin' touch me

Cock back and bust, screamin' mother fucker

Blaze up a sack, I wonder where the gangsters at

Where the thugs are at, where all the bustas and slugs are at

I'm a general, raw dog assassin homie

Assassin nigga, bitch nigga, be blastin' nigga

I'm a pimp, I'm a g, something you wanna be

Malice and Terrar said bust two to the head, bitch

[Hook: Clipse]

This is for my thug hustlers, dealers and gun runners

To my niggas locked, holdin' it down in body numbers

Think of the Clipse with the whole clique in black Hummers

Stackin' them chips and let them tricks get nothing from us

[Verse 4: Pusha-T]

I spit that raw shit, ya'll niggas is tailor-made

Find Clipse and Nore, racin' the Palisades

Or in the hovercraft floatin' the Everglades

Whatever the setting, count on three renegades

In bandanas, remind you of Santana

Joints fully auto, shells out of bananas

This triangle's strong, these walls never be torn

Love is love, all our hearts are warm

Try to infiltrate, you feelin' more than the norm

The barrage of hollows hit hard like brick storms

Even in the pristine, Chapel of the Sistine

I'm still prone to leave you glistening

I'll mouth to you what joy does this bring

And stagger away calm withdrawn and whistling

I speak in this vain so you know what lines to cross

You can start breathin' again, Terrar signin' off

[Hook: Clipse]

This is for my thug hustlers, dealers and gun runners

To my niggas locked, holdin' it down in body numbers

Think of the Clipse with the whole clique in black Hummers

Stackin' them chips and let them tricks get nothing from us

My thug hustlers, dealers and gun runners

To my niggas locked, holdin' it down in body numbers

Think of the Clipse with the whole clique in black Hummers

Stackin' them chips and let them tricks get nothing from us