|[Verse 1: Webbie]
|Well fuck it, go on, turn the music up again
|I heat the streets up like a oven, it ain't nuthin
|I want mine. just hit me up when its "on time"
|I ain't duct-taped me a nigga up in a long time!
|Im'a die thuggin. I think Im'a die bustin
|Im'a die hustlin, cuz I refuse to die with nuthin
|bumpin crews who drove from Cali in my old school two-tone
|they missed me niggas barely, I want they whole fuckin crew gone!
|In that zone, where there ain't no smirks, niggas get murked
|just keep hidin cuz its too late to go to church, now
|show you muthafuckers how this trill shit work, now
|turn your shit into the 4th of Ju-ly, boo-yah!
|Savage: AKA Webster Gradney. Real name still bring flame
|swang hang, let them thang rang,
|leave brains all on ya fuckin shoestrang
|I'm tellin you, we ain't playin, we comin!
|Skulls gettin cracked for (this what you want?)
|Kids gettin snatched for (this what you want?)
|Ain't no remorse for (this what you want?)
|These bitches ask for (what you want?)
|Killaz on deck for (this what you want?)
|Ain't no respect for 'em (this what you want?)
|I want the rest of 'em (what you want?)
|These bitches as for (what you want?)
|[Verse 2: Lil Trill]
|When its on, its on. Ain't no callin it off
|Ain't no cop'in no plea, so ain't no talkin at all
|You on the internet thug? You wanna buck in the club?
|Well guess what? We gon' show you niggaz 'bout playin with us
|We cant get you, we get the fam. Thats just how the game goes
|Thought you was a gangsta, but you sweeter than the rainbow
|I heard you [?] but I thought you was a man, though
|We ain't never scary, we got guns like Hussein, though
|Ash like Obama. Guns thats Futurama
|Oh, you a mama's boy? I bring it to you and yo mama!
|Nigga ye ain't 'bout that drama, so cool out, and cool down
|Go and get ya clique but that choppa will make move 'round
|Its however you want it. However you make it
|Come to your apartments nigga, leave that whole thang vacant
|Its what you want. I'm givin you a option
|The K, or the airfare. I think we gonna pop him!
|[Verse 3: Webbie]
|I got a choppa in the car, a choppa in the car
|catch ya stoppin at the stoplight, pop ya in your car
|pop ya on your ass, treat ya like a ho
|[?] hook up with ya sister, and treat her like a ho
|I love ya like a pussy, I hate ya cuz ya pussy
|I'm the trillest nigga livin, bitch
|and I don't give a fuck about what anybody sayin,
|or anybody drank, and I'll show up in they brain
|"What these pussy niggas thinkin?!"
|Webbie. You don't got no fuckin credit
|and bitch, you holdin sumthin so come on, let me get it
|I fuck her in her ass, I did it til she shitted
|I put it on her ass, shittin on the wrong nigga
|I smell blood. I smell blood
|I feel played, and some skulls gettin cracked for
|Somebody fin' to need a tampon
|Its one of these pussy niggas time of the month
|What You Want