My buddy, my buddy, wherever i go, he goes-
My buddy, my buddy, i write what i feel, thats how the fuck we flow-
My buddy, my buddy, its always sad to see a bitch that you dont know-
Get stomped out as quick as he came, now sit back, relax, and enjoy the game...

Everywhere i go, i got a tag along/
a pen and pad is all i need to show im strong/
you spit about gats that you dont pack wit nothin/
at least when i come at you, i come out with something/
everytime you drop, its you rantin and ravin/
about how many guns you can hold, yet youve never held a .45 or guage'n, if you ever did once, you'd probably piss ya pants/
that how i know i won this fued,/
i attack you with my voice spread out on a screen/
typin every word i believe is hard enough to make you bleed/
im the mean seed who was birth to bring heat to ya front seat/
i come at you one day, you dont respond till next week/
pop this, and pop that in Lebanon we got that/
we dont need to express how many shotties i can pop back/
but i bet you i can top that, cause on the top rack i got a hot stack of alot'a mags that i can hit you wit and you wont respond back/
i won before, ill win now, ill always win, no sence that i told him/
ill cash you out faster then in a game of Your Holdem/
YOur soildiers are like posers they supposed to be tough but they out of luck/
learn to live to survive the streets here, you just tryin to survive your fathers fucks/

My buddy, my buddy,wherever i go, he goes-
My buddy, my buddy, a pen and a pad is the only way i roll-
My buddy, my buddy, its always sad to see a bitch that you dont know-
get his words stuck in his throat and start to choke-
take ya time and rewind everything i wrote...

You the bitch with the temper, im just a man whos findin you/
you the faggot who never had it, and im just the man remindin you/
im the most critical, visual, spiritual, saint fallin from the sky/
you the bitch on the wrong side of a 9 prayin for ya life/
you the type of person to wonder why, whenever you come into Lebanon you gettin stalked from behind, and how come they eyein you from all the way across the line, its cause the colors you can wear in life you cant rely on to get you by/
cause the flags around ya wrists can get a bitch clipped from the sky/
and have a snipe scope aimin at ya spine and wont realize, that ya life is in danger cause its 6 Bloods on the other side/
Im tappin on Staten Island, and ill knock ya socks off in the Bronx cause the boxes that they live in is still bigger then ya whole drop/
and ill have'em shook to L.A cause thats the place i revive/
i got all of Lebanon locked down from the City to the West Side/
so i guess the best line to drop on you now is none at all/
cause all i gotta do is fool you into thinkin im spittin something cool to make you fall/
you might of had the jabs to slam up againts the walls/
and now that this you lmas is finished, you can finally turn ya computer off...