Son we stay dirty,
every member of my clique 730 , ya heard me
so bag back divy them funds
your team goin' need some guns fa' this one,
son you dumbin
pedico got ya brain numbin,
mumblin when you speak, but you seak to defeat us,
in god we trust and 9's get bust,
you and ya son's get touched,
thats word life , we aint rappin,
and son we too old ta' be scrappin,
thats why every member of my team stay strappin,
hollow tip slugs in they gats'n,
lets see what happen when fake thugs start ta' rappin,
spittin shit thats ill-legit,
but you aint built like that,
you aint the one ta' push packs,
get ya wig pushed back fa' tryin ta' put work in them bags,
ya clique son you fags,
when you clappin kids you got rights ta' brag,
its soo sad,
i could see tha' look in ya eye,
look on ya face,
only embrace slugs comin at ya grill, fa' real,
you aint real pa' we live this shit,
clutchin rubber grips lettin ammo spit,
soo take a seat while you talkin that shit,
you been hit.....



yo shit is on some other written and not spittin it, gotta get used to that though,, one love fam' jrz