Songtexte: Boss Hogg Outlawz. All Freestyles Vol. 3. Freestyle (Track 12).

[talking]
Killa nigga, (run it) hey

[Kyleon]
Who you know rap fresher than Killa, realer for static
Wherever we go, he know where I'm lyrically at
But it's a bunch of niggaz, trying to act like they bad
They must be out of they mind, if they think that mad
They say they freestyling, knowing damn well they wrote that shit
I done heard it all befo', I can quote that shit
I don't sell drinks, Killa keep bars fully stocked
I got raps for weeks, bitch I keep bars fully cocked
I don't mean to be arrogant, or be a bullet popper
Do you really think they can see this bullet, not
These niggaz done lost they mind, confusing themselves
Cause they not amusing me, they amusing themselves
I'm the reason, a lot of rappers is losing themselves
Ask 'em who the best rapper is, they need to quit choosing themselves
I'm fin to start shooting slugs, and start using them shells
Put a pallet to that ass, and start bruising them tails
You better go ask cats, about that proven fact
Try to contest Kyleon, you lose the match
Even when I give 'em a life, they still lose the match
Get it they lost they sparkle, they didn't use the match
I'm so far ahead of myself, I'm the dude to catch
Cause I stay consistent, what with it you dudes expect
I bet now I'm the dude, that these dudes respect
Cause they know Kyleon flow, is huge as techs
Tell me who you know, flow as huge as that
But I'ma keep that to myself, I'ma just conclude with that
Killa nigga, don't make cock the pump and (blow it out your ass)

[Slim Thug]
Nigga please, the world ain't seen too many me's
I don't think the Lord created, a lot of these G's
Broke niggaz say they don't like me, all I talk about is cash
Or how I ride around on glass, well (blow it out your ass)
I'ma underground legend, the best of the best
That's why when you see Slim, he live way better than the rest
Compare your favorite independent rapper, put him to the test
You think that cat could fuck with me, (blow it out your ass)
I made niggaz get on they hustle, step up they game
They saw the rocks in the lock, and had to step up they change
I put the North on the map, when the South was running thangs
And y'all think y'all fucking with me, (blow it out your ass)
I showed you niggaz how to ball, y'all was looking like dummies
Let y'all know what was cool, when y'all use to dress funny
Slim the reason, you niggaz know undergrounds make money
And y'all try to take it away from me, (blow it out your ass)
I speak the truth, while these other rappers tell they tales
I keep it gangsta, and don't make love songs to sell
Major labels say I'm unsignable, I'm like oh well
You wanna give me a quarter mill, (blow it out your ass)

[PJ]
I hustle and take bread, move and shake FED's
Soon as I stack my chips, I'm flossing and turning heads
Hoes I don't trust, mind on stacking bucks
You mad I'm coming up, well (blow it out your ass)
PJ I'm back, gripping and ripping tracks
Crucifying these haters, till and collecting stacks
Dog I'm too thoed, my mouth piece is cold
You want me to fold, well (blow it out your ass)
Hoes they gon bop, when I pop up on dots
Niggaz gon start hating, and haters they getting shot
Motherfuck the cops, I do what I feel
You talking down cause I'm real, well (blow it out your ass)
I'm climbing up the hill, my time has come
Yo I'm never ever slipping, hoe I sleep with my gun
Wanna see you niggaz face, when I pull up on glass
PJ, you don't like me bitch (blow it out your ass)
I go with real spitters, like Slim and Killa
Sir Daily and Lil Mel, money hungry for scrilla
Chris Ward and Rayface, that's my team
You mad we getting green, well (blow it out your ass)