[Verse 1: Sauce Money]

Five star General spit, hush them niggas

I star, why even discuss them niggas?

By far, I'm the shit, flush them niggas

Fuck them niggas, I'ma crush them niggas

Chrome heater, street sweeper

Gun shots get deeper, cough up a lung and a liter

12-shot 9 now, one of my new pets

And when these twins squeeze, it sounds like duets

Nigga, burn, yeah, my fam learn to earn

We got shit locked, with no key holes to turn

Platinum Navigator, easy when you earn a buck

It's like a big fuckin' beeper when you turn it up

Shit vibratin'

Hoes titties bouncin', rubbin' all on my shit – bitch, try waitin'

Straight to the telly, huh, Sauce got angles to hit

Billboard's triangles and shit

[Verse 2: Geda K]

And who's Geda? The Don Juan for you Don Con's

In the double-9 Yukon, tote two arms

From Brooknam 'till death do

And I bet you, when I spit shots they connect to dead you

Lil' monkeys postin' for wreck

They get trapped up and extorted for your toast and your vest

I'm no joke, so laugh and be laughin' to death

And if you think it's so simple, you'll be gassed and then left

It's the game tight nigga, chain two below

I'm a gigolo, mami – the fame I ain't fo'

The foes I don't hate, hoes I don't chase

Henny I drink straight, my money is big faced

For you small change niggas who playin' to ball

I got six digits now, what you playin' it for?

I'm the youngest out of Marcy and the shit don't stop

Steppin' up to the top 'bout to have shit locked

[Hook: Sauce Money]

You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits

Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)

Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)

The enemies plot on my riches

You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits

Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)

Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)

The enemies plot on my riches

[Verse 3: Wais P]

My Automatic Stouts be off balance

Gun with the silence

Outta state, mad mileage

Your crew wild, but we the wildest

Switch my trigger finger often to prevent a calus

For me, many men hold malice, I react with violence

Since we tryin' to double the dough, we double the sins

Even the gats is double now, lookin' like fraternal twins

The rap killings be serial

The Feds tried to link Da Ranjahz to the crime through the use of genetic material

I'm takin' all bets, who want it?

Wais, hard to touch, weavin' shit like Prince Naseem Hamed

The flow is 10 karat and your lyrics is poor, Big Horse

Plus you walk like your salad's been tossed

Smoke the explosion, rock second hand gold that's stolen

Straight haul off and smack a nigga just for posin'

Bleed Hennessy, rhyme like there's ten of me

So you remember me, every verse I'm on should be considered a felony

[Verse 4: Haph Dead]

Why the fuck niggas be hatin'? I don't even know

Niggas need to go ahead with them outdated flows

Da Ranjahz cause precipitation, and we rain in this bitch like

Hurricane Mitch

Fuck the fame, son, I'm in it for the dough and another whip

Ghetto cracked out on some other shit

Style switch, leave the whole city dark like the mothership

Ya'll know the Haph, I hold the 9 with the rubber grip

Seen less, ya'll re-imported by the government

If I wasn't rappin', I'd be on the corners bubblin'

Doublin' my cream on a triple beam

Instead I keep the team tight and feel like ain't shit gon' divide us

Not even riches, not even bitches

Look now, niggas of the world stay paintin' pictures

Of the inner-city realness

Who can relate? Roll a fat one and feel this

We put it down

[Hook: Sauce Money]

You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits

Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)

Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)

The enemies plot on my riches

You want hits? We got hits, nothin' but the hot hits

Once it drop, everybody's topless (Sun stroke)

Hennessey shots and fly bitches (Gun smoke)

The enemies plot on my riches