[Intro: Lounge Lo]
Why you talk like that?
Why you talk like that?
Yo, why..... why... my god....
Why.... yo.... yoooooo.....

[Lounge Lo]
Somebody said clock was wired, yo Dottie
Hit me up and let me know if the shots are fired
We can linger, tell Stringer, that the blocks for hire
I pop the ecst', hit the chick, when my cock got higher
And niggas fronting like the Stat don't rock
I told ya'll, before niggas that the Stat wack cops
Bang bang, up in the blood clot
I'm sitting in the coupe, two-seat platinum spokes
What up duke? It's me again, he again
Hallelujah, dooya, it's Beez again
I cut ya knees off and send a note to ya crib
With a ransom on it, never stop blamping on it
I sip Henny for many niggas I lost
Any niggas I lost, any niggas I lost
I got a forty for any nigga that come
The bigger the mouth, bigger the gun, and I'mma get shorty

[Chorus: Lounge Lo]
Gang out, bloods and crips
Thugs and kings, niatas, all niggas bug for cream
Gang out, pop the hammer, lock the slammer
Watch for them cops with the red dot cameras
Gang out, fuck you up and take yo whip
Then leave you out for dead while I rape the strip
Gang out, grams, the o's, the o's, the 8's
8's, the halves, niggas can't hold no weight

[Lounge Lo]
There's a war going on outside, no man is safe from
The place I call home, where it's surrounded by gates
I'm a tiger, lion and a ape, all in one
It's the season of the vick, let me slam the eight
Cowards is lame-o, acting like B won't do it
I'm not your homey, the one that's not gonna pull it
I'm the kid that run with a bullet, why you talking so wreckless
Now test it, one of my bullets
And where I'm from, yo we crack them lids, around the corner
From my building, is a whole bunch of African kids
I live and die for the hood, infascinated by ones
Did I say money, I meant to say guns
So gettin' they head popped is nothing, I do what I got to do
Fuck with my kin, then I shoot who I gotta shoot
Nigga it's me, I'm back in the business
The business done slacked up, I'm back with a vengeance

[Chorus]

[Lounge Lo]
I got a team that'll rush the crib, crack the safe
Hit the jackpot, cut you up and snuff the kids
Re-arrange ya whole face with a rusty razor
My guns go off and shoot like them LA Lakers
How you figure that the hood is better, where I'm from
My hood's straight lugers, rugers and rettas
Park Hill is you with me? What we do for cheddar
And for a ten dollar bag put two in ya leather
I done lost, so there's nothing to lose, rap is good
Rap money comes slow, crack money I choose
Ya'll niggas don't fucked up for letting me in
I'm bringing my tech, ya'll gon' respect my kin
Man, it's nothing, unless my gun go off
And do the knowledge to ya dun, while my son show off
And annoyed at the game, the game ain't shit no more
I still bang, plus I spit the raw, Park Hill's finest nigga...

[Chorus]