[Chorus: x8] Who that comin' gunnin'? [Flizy comin' gunnin'] Start runnin' [Verse 2] I bump on hypocrites, I bump on trizicks, I come to get this I rob
Shake sounds sweet" We make you turn it up, while you burnin on the sax We had to sho' you up, and put Fresno on the map Now we sowed it up, now you haters
your dust lets hit it hard... get up on the floor show me what its for encore gimme more meet me at my private door come on come on come on rock
you [T-Rock imitating DJ Paul] T-Rock man, what the fuck man, uh.. Damn man, my little bitty arm and shit [T-Rock] Yea I know why that motherfucker
: [Strick] What, Silky Don Entertainment That nigga Strick, Royce the 5'9'' Rock-A-Block all day, what yo yo yo I'm the type to show up to the studio
Countin lucci. Nigga I got banks to rob Convertable Saabs. I'm married to the mob Biggie [Biggie Smalls:] Frank White the desperado Used to rock
coochi Countin lucci. Nigga I got banks to rob Convertable Saabs. I'm married to the mob Biggie Biggie Smalls: Frank White the desperado Used to rock
big ol' ass, it's saturday Sticky, icky, icky, icky Sticky, icky, icky, icky [verse 1: ludacris] Grease don't pop on the stove no more, moved on up Double
hunted on this modern day auction block [Hook] Mic Check, ha ha ha I be the anti-myth rhythm rock shocker! Mic Check, ha ha ha ha I be the anti-myth rhythm rock
that shit that's toxic, I rock shit It's that hot shit like Busta Bust got plus I bust glock, on pussies I trust not They get blown, burned like minutes on
And there's a very reason why the brothers slang rocks My mutha wants to know why our son sells crack I tell her [?] to put clothes on my back And I don
dealings Keep the steel concealed in Cause we got no time for feelings Eyes on the building guards are on the corners illing Million dollar block villain plotting on
might circle, hats down low in the Range Switch lanes, change my tire, peel out Real loud on the stage yo, I shitted on your hood kid I shitted on your
Grand Larceny Grand Larceny Just give me a beat, give me a stage to stand on I know that none y'all ever planned on A dude from L.A. who could rock
worst One, come on, come on, one (Chorus: Marc Live) Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock
', turn it up See the money ain't a thang So So Def, Roc-A-Fella, collabo' You know, all we do is Rock, rock on Rock, rock on Rock
'll rob you See a nigga creep on ah come up Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves
right here motherfucker These motherfucking rocks fat Hey, at ten o'clock, I don't wanna see None of y'all little niggas up on the motherfucking block