[Verse 1: Fred Money]

Woke up yawning from a sour nap

Slept for a hour and I'm proud of that

Hit my nigga Kwon, he inside the trap

Told him I'm on my way, get the slime from Mac

Hit the shower and recite a rap

Throw on some get fresh, outie in a hour flat

Big boy mom, smelling like a sour pack

Kryptonite, ask Superman if he want his powers back

Around the scratch like I got a itch

In the 'jects with my scrap, and he gotta pitch

Take him across the map whenever I got a trip

Don't gotta trip, we gon be rich with a lot of chips

I'mma spit for them niggas that can't

But wish that they could, so they can ball and sit in that paint

Try to change a nigga's ways, all you get is restraint

And once you get a nigga paid, all his feelings is blanked

Real talk -- I seen steel spark

Bodies on the floor, outlined real chalk

Squally knocking down doors when them deals talk

You ain't a pig, what you squeal for?

Shit is messy zoo, how this speci' do

Turn a close friend to a vegetable

Got my man doing time, and it's Federal

If he said he do, then I bet he do

Look

[Verse 2: J.R. Writer]

I got that type of raw you bubble that'll get us all in trouble

I do it for the hood where the only choice is hustle

Rawest boy in the world, come and snort a couple

I got that boy and that girl, come and snort a couple

I was born to ball; nigga, you ain't known at all

Follow protocol? Well, I'm the pro to call

When you need someone to tighten up a rookie

You gambling with your life -- I'm surprised you ain't a bookie

Cut the foolery, cause obviously you pussy

Ain't no schooling me, you'd think the guy was playing hooky

Live-r than I should be, you looking at a spitter

Trying to see a wussy, then look into a mirror

Nigga, I'm the answer; how could you be a killer?

Last time you had the hammer, you was putting up a picture

Talk about you got work on the block

That don't cut it -- here, you must work at the shop

It ain't worth it, so stop

You really hurting the pots

I done dealt with so much bricks that I should work on my shot

You ain't never wait in the hall with weight in the hall

Go into a sneaker box just to make a withdrawal

You ain't never creep the block when they take it to war

If I ever squeeze a shot, you'll go straight to the law

So, dog, what you trying to sell?

You know Writer well

Yellow Rollie on, only time will tell

I ain't with the foolery you spitting

I took a listen -- you's a waste of studio equipment

Who got a swag excellent as me?

I should put you in a bag, you'll never be a g