[Pre-Intro: Skit]
Sentence should now-now be pronounced I'll ask that you stand for sentence, please. Mr. *** it is the sentence of the court that your custody be committed to the department of corrections for confinement of the *** state prisons without possibility of parole for the remainder of your life. You may be seated
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
Imma teach this hoes a lesson
Bitch you know you ain't finessin' me
I thought you knew my pedigree
You n***as lack integrity
A handguns a necessity
But AR's are my speciality
I got heroin lean and ecstasy
But cookin' dope my speciality
Say gucci gotta murder one
I kill'em allegely
I'm not the average celebrity
Can't let you get the best of me
Amateur ? ?
Leave his ass in bandages
My homeboy doing 40 years, I don't know how he manages
All you n***as tryna handle me, but I know how to handle it
Hit the block, shoot 50 shots
His funeral was candle lit
I fronted him he didn't take advantage of disadvantages
I'm loadin' my choppa, listenin' to Pac I'm finna murk all my enemies
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
War ready
You got shooters, I’ve got shooters
We’ve got money
Let’s do what them other n***as can’t do
Mastermind, uhh, uhh
N***a got a thousand guns, n***a (Dade County)
If money is power, n***a, then I’ve got millions of power, n***a
Hahaha! Miami shit
Fuck with me n***a, huh?
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
17 I was chargin' n***as 17
Ridin' clean, youngest n***a in the Medellín
Bomber green, in that thang, in the middle lane
Did some thangs for my n***as which I can't explain
Versace slippers, 20 chains, bitch I'm Dana Dane
Put a patch over your eye, fuck with my petty change
Fuck what you heard, for that bird I'm a dirty n***a
Laid to rest by the one you thought was workin' with yah
War ready, the game just wanna take my life
War ready, pussy boy we all could die tonight
War ready, fast cash above the law
War ready, gas mask when them choppers talk
[Hook: Tracy T]
Killas on front line when you're war ready
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when you're war ready
Just another mama cryin' when you're war ready
Just another homicide cause we war ready
Killas on the front line when you're war ready
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when you're war ready
Just another mama cryin' cause we're war ready
Just another homicide when you're war ready
War, war, war
[Interlude: Young Jeezy]
A coward dies a thousand deaths, a real n***a dies but one
21 gun salute out of the top of your drop top coupe
I know a lot of n***as gon' hate to see this
Yeah I wish Shake could see this
I'll never fall for what I stand for
This here for Nando
We could live today, blood, and die tonight, cuz
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
Box Chevy hit the block, run the whole 50 shots
You just poppin' 'til you know you can't pop 'em no more
We done came through the block and sold many color drops
And these mothafuckas think you can't drop 'em no more
All right, a n***a put some change on your head
Damn right, fuck around, clear my safe out
I got a few digi scales and a couple Denzels
And you mothafuckin' right, this a safe house
Give me the K and a shovel, I'll bury that n***a
Be his pallbearer, so I can carry that n***a
What you gonna hit him with, the Glock or the chop?
Look I wouldn't give a fuck if they were sharin' that n***a
You mothafuckas out here always talkin' 'bout what another mothafucka said
Yeah I got that FNH when that mothafucka finna hostin'
I ain't out here to mothafuckin' play
Why these fuck n***as always cryin' 'bout somethin'?
Either you're livin' like a ho or you're dyin' 'bout somethin'
Try to let that Rollie breathe but it's hidin' in my sleeve
Like that motherfucker timid or shy about somethin'
Tomorrow ain't promised, n***a roll up that weed
Gotta stay strapped to live the life I lead
Start your own alphabet with all them G's
Open up a hundred doors with all them keys
Yeah we live for them coupes but we dyin' by the gun
Missed his court date, now my n***a on the run
Big shit poppin' in his pocket like a lighter
Shit bag leave a grown n***a in a diaper
Hangin' out the Rolls, on your mark, get set
Let it go, yeah hold that bitch steady
When that ritalin get to rushin' and them drums get to bussin'
Yeah I hope you pussy n***as war ready
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Rick Ross]
Follow in my footstep, I was born to die a soldier
N***a couldn't walk a mile, found him naked in the river
Shout out to the Vice Lords, shout out to my Blood n***a
Shout out to them GD's, where that Crip love, n***a?
Shout out to them dopeboys, owe it to the plug, n***a
I could die a thousand times, will never die a fuck n***a
Shoutout to my city, too, my clip hold a 62
Ridin' down on 63, rest in peace to [?]
Heroin and quinine
Cut that bitch a thousand times
Phone call said he need a brick
I text him back, "Come stand in line"
You went out of town so I had to wack your bitch
Never came back, pussy boy, go die a bitch
[Hook]
[Outro]
War ready
If you ain't ready to die about it
Don't even mention it to a n***a like me, baby
I went from nothing, n***a, to $60 million, n***a
Walking around in my motherfuckin' Belaire Rosé [?]
Evander Holyfield's estate, n***a
$25 million, n***a
$6 million in marble, $2 million in drapes
Another 5 in chandeliers
230 acres, n***a
That's just one of the many properties, n***a
War ready
And I'm down to die 'bout that
We gon' ride 'bout that
So you know we ready to slide 'bout that
Cut that check, n***a
Whatcha money like, huh?
It's hard to go to war with $70 million, n***a
Read the obituary, n***a
Print that motherfucker in [Italian?], n***a
What's a hassa?
What's a hassa?
That's you, haha
I'm not gonna kill you, though, haha
I'm not gonna kill you, though, haha
Hey Black, kill this motherfucker
