[L.R.C.] Now as the streets say it's hot in the hood, it's official What's good is that, I'm good wit the flow, good wit the pistol If I pull it up, I should of, I could of, I'mma hit you My street corner soldiers all focused wit toasters In the studio, gats hidden in speakers and sofas Keep my enemy's close and bring beef to a closure My career chose me to stay grinding for life Don't ask me to freestyle for free, now I rhyme for a price Past my time, getting nice, masterminding a heist Chopping some cook up, plotting a juks up, I got a hook up From vests to chrome, to burnt out cell phones Blowing, without being well known or making jail home Don't blame the game or the hood, crime's crazy Flunked out good girls and the good time ladies Street corner C.E.O.'s, should have my own TV show I put that work in for that easy dough
[Chorus: Trigg-nomm] This money comes and goes, so does these hoes And these streets we cop and go, that's how we roll Cuz this money comes and goes, I thought you know Fuck wit street corner C.E.O.'s, and M.M.O.
[Trigg-nomm] Flow like the front of 20-0-7, in the late '80's Me, Pearl, Born and Gietto T wit eight o's You know about C.I.G., you know we take dough And gun play? Is like a every day say so Though the plan was rap, my grands was stacked Cuz I got grip and spit clips for these handicaps Closed caskets, mans be handicapped Unload ratchets, or catch this candy wrap Citrus sweet centered, wit weed twisted in it Jeep tinted, so D's don't see who in it See we going against what we known since We've grown to be crooks, killas, bangers and pimps Hustlas, drug pushers, gangstas and gents From juvenile delinquents to leaving no prints Like, when Little Mikey from Marcy got murdered Check statistics, I spit shit you never heard of
[Trigg-nomm] Now if you got a bill for real, you best to clear it Or I'mma have to pull my steel, you gonna wear it If you wanna owe or not, show no concern When your bitch get burned, I hope a lesson is learned My blessing's concerned, though I keep a weapon tucked firm Molesting your kids, pick and choose who push wigs Be like, Manson for this, I shoot pigs Get dough like Rah Diggs, wit a flow like Can I Live
[L.R.C.] Now what ya'll claim to be, don't pertain to me It's plain to see, I bang heat, dangerously vanish, and marage, your whole entourage On the running at large, when the mack discharge L.R. and Trigga, Trigga and L The more produc on the block, the bigger the scale Push a big SL, clientele on swoll Coney Island warriors, for real, now you know, for sure