f/ 7th Ambassador, Baghdad

[Chorus: Hell Razah]
+This Is 4 My GG'z+, on the corner gettin mad cheese

Wide g's, wit them O.Z.'s
+This Is 4 My GG'z+, workin hard gotta feed they seeds
You either draw blood or you bleed
+This Is 4 My GG'z+, up north gettin no v's
Workin hard, tryna feed they seeds
+This Is 4 My GG'z+, on the corner gettin mad cheese
In they crib, blowin mad trees

[Hell Razah]
I want money for this black Christ portrait
Plaques in my office, one phone call, find ya corpse in the coffin
I hit like mob bosses, cautious, don't get nauseous, when I record this
On a 24-track to a cordless, the way the rhyme shine son, know the courses
I'm like Tyson wit no losses, you ain't hot wit that wack chorus
Don't get it gassed up and die, tourist
You out ya orbit, you might catch a nine Taurus
Not the horoscope, buff arms are dope, that palm the toast
In the streets where it's bombs to cope
Young g's stay trippin when they moms is broke
Cops got 'em tellin, blocks is too hot for sellin
My pop give me a straight shot of Corel 7
Biggie and Pac made me cop another pale seven
Before I trust out-of-town felons
Under the white clouds of heaven, project dead-ends
Of snake friends, hoodies and Timbs
Could it be +Grandz+, we used to be, closer than skin
I seen sex in the eyes of the un-godly
Hotties wit Halle Barry bodies
In dark parties, Dark Bacardi, my pen tear apart armies
I need paper to back down how it safer
Since Diallo tell me how it got safer, hater, hater

[Chorus]

[Baghdad]
You can't be G., I be the key to street prisoners
I get it hot and turn