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[Verse 1: MJG] I'm just a drop top flippin', flippin' Fifth of Yacht sippin', sippin' Dope crack that's going in the strip clubs tippin' MJG ah, P.I.M.P. ah Fuck a blind date, oh no, I got to see her The new millennium poet Forever show it, can't blow it If you reap it, you sow it I, pay my, dues And it's the rules that I play by Carry the team like I'm A.I I used to cook rocks, and hit the block And gun in the bushes, and money in my sock Shit, I had hoes way before I was nationally famous I was in the hood strapped up good Watchin' my anus I'm a target splitter The world strongest man hardest hitter Even though you hate I still elevate regardless nigga Step to us boy, look what you done started And we don't even care that your arsenal be the largest
[Hook: 8 Ball & MJG, P. Diddy] When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone
[Verse 2: 8 Ball] Look, you niggaz play too much mayne You need to pump yo' brakes Keep a heater nigga need for them restless snakes Right in my face caught a case tryin' to defend my space Dodging snitches police niggaz jumping state to state What kind of nigga run his mouth and snitch out everybody? The kind of nigga that's gone end up being a dead body Yo' wife and children gone be searching for their dear ol' daddy They found his headless body tied up in a dark alley It's cold like ice and snow on a nigga soul For bricks or snow, niggaz will fuck you like a dirty hoe Kick yo' door and put and your babies on the floor See you in public fuck who with you let the thang go A nigga tell you don't let business turn personal Fuck what they say cause for gram a nigga hurtin' you Niggaz out here hurtin' fool Nothing is for free mayne Fuckin' with the game That's how that shit be mayne
[Hook]
[Verse 3: 8 Ball] I was torn this bitch came from the streets I was born Pussy like a little kitty back yellow as corn I don't go around poppin' shit wit' niggaz who talkin' Them niggaz ain't talkin' no more Closed coffin Not often do you see a nigga loyal as I Like that boy from Best Eye nigga ready to die For my bread and them niggaz that considered me family Hold it down mayne I got you til we up there wit' granny
[Verse 4: MJG] Cause as soon as I start writing I start going through physical Deeper into my spiritual I'm so fuckin' lyrical MJG the realest the truth the definition Just call me the competition I'm still stomping and pimpin' I'm still working with Diddy, still fuck wit the hood I got the key to the city, the streets is all good My leather is all wood, my gun is still secluded I'm still hoping and praying to God I don't use it
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