What I gotta do to let y'all niggas know, I am the nicest, ever, hardcore, commercial. What you wanna do, you wanna wild up, you wanna dance? Don't matter to me, I got it all locked down baby. It's not a game, it's war, playing it raw, you might stay in the war, but I bring the chain with the sword. Bring the pain to your door like death was knocking, unless you got my ass, I'ma make you twins with the headless horseman. Hellish portion, sell your soul, live your dreams, don't pay the cost, nigga, say hello to the killer team. A killer fiends for blood, twins on thugs, like fiends for drugs, I don't need no love. Give me your fear, money, respect, beer, honeys, and sex, we're here, I've been in checks for years, hungry and stressed. You fucking with Chris, fuck pun, dead the rap for later, get your calculator, the head, the cap, I'll take the stack forever. Can't count how many heads I had to sever, out the niggas I keep, and put them back together. Back to terror, could open your girl, and make your trunks out of flesh. Mike, Buffer, or Bill, you fucking for real, for real. Rap acts, maniacs, songboy, killer, hack, hack, chain react. Two for one, double the death, same price, Ruben Bates said, huh, you know that ain't right. It's not a game, we're getting paid hard, it's still G-Squad. It's not a game, we're getting paid hard, it's still G-Squad. It's not a game, we're getting paid hard, it's still G-Squad. With your pocket big, my Glock so big, you can rock a bridge. Drop the midsection out the top of your wig, ain't no bullshitting. Getting the full treatment, special tool, heated missiles, so your crew's leaving with you. I'll rip you in half, blast that ass through a glass window. That's how we do it in the south, boogie, where tough mouth rookies get snuffed out for talking down to me. Why should I even consider your crew, shit on your crew, get rid of your crew. What I'm fitting to do, I'll split you in two, leave you impaired when I blast a shotty. Drip in a dope and leave you there with a half. Your body be rowdy like Roddy, probably robbing your stash. Got your body like Charlie, I blow up, stash your knives in my ass. Surviving the times, we the last ones left. Blast them tanks with glyph, blast those vets with split. Blast the tips of any bastard bitch. Bap a chick, swipe me right to the gasket from the bass of that biatch. It's for the big hard. We get paid hard. They still team smart. Just pay for the surgery. It's for the big hard. We get paid hard. They still team smart. Just pay for the surgery. It's for the big hard. It's for the big hard.