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(Hook: Young Jeezy) |
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1 niggas down, 2 niggas run it |
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Game and the snowman, 100 miles and gunning |
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Here come the paramedics! |
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It goes 1 for the money, 2 for the dough |
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On the count of 3, niggas kicking at your door |
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Here come the paramedics! |
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It goes 1 for the ghetto, 2 niggas run it |
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Game and the snowman, 100 miles and gunning |
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Here come the paramedics! |
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(Verse 1: Young Jeezy) |
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Here come the pain! I've got a name |
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Ever since an adolescent I've been deep in the game |
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All I need is more weed, a little something for the pain |
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So good like a hook from T-Pain |
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They say you're nobody til somebody kills you |
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I say "go be somebody, even if it kills you.." |
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They say "death smells like bad ass weave" |
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Another watch, another chain: last thing a nigga needs |
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I swear to God, a couple right by the night stand |
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Clip my half a hundred, case another hundred grand |
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And get some rest when your conscious keep waking ya |
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The evil kicks in and them demons start shaking ya |
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Every night, dude, I wake up in a cold sweat |
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Get dressed and hit the club in a cold vest |
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God damn, girl, you so sexy, cold shit |
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But why they still riding to your old shit? |
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Party by the beat, all still riding with ya |
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Party by the big riders, still siding with ya |
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Party by the real niggas still hustling to ya |
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I know you're here in the day, ain't nothing to ya |
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They say pictures worth about a thousand words |
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These niggas talking like they really worth a thousand birds |
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Here come the paramedics, bitch I done told you |
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When niggas calling beef, it's for the tofu |
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(Hook) |
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(Verse 2 - Game) |
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See us riding like some mobsters, with the trunk full of choppers |
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Give a nigga a couple shots, and I ain't talking about vodka |
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Hanging out the sunroof, Snowman driving |
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Nigga live through these shots: Put his ass on Survivor! |
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Fresh up at the trap, I ain't never been a rat |
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Get cheese like a mouse, so I'm honest throwing stack |
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Let you suckers make it rain, I'll make it Katrina |
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And pile all them hoes in the back of my Beemer |
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Hit the freeway, bumping "Ghetto Boys", with the V12 steaming |
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Top down, in the rain, California dreaming |
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I'd be lying if I said I still flip birds |
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...Well nigga I still flip birds! |
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Word to the doors on this ? I'm sitting on |
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Ain't a rapper alive me and Jeezy ain't shitting on |
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Who else you know shit out Benjamins, and piss Patron? |
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Put Michael Buffer between us, and let's get it on! |
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(Hook) |
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(Verse 3 - Game) |
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(Hey Snowman, these niggas hustling backwards |
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I'mma pull the K out, and turn em back around) |
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Look, if I give you half a chicken, can you break that bitch down? |
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Tell the truth, it's me nigga, ain't nobody else around |
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Jeezy said it's a recession, so we hustling that Mayweather |
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My ? the best pound for pound, like Mayweather |
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Undisputed: I never lost a brick |
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UPS, FedEx and duct tape to a bitch |
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Put her ass on that greyhound |
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Tell that ho to stay down |
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Sleep the first 48, and wake up in the A-Town |
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Give a fuck about a bitch |
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Die for the paper, hustle relentless |
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Nigga, I take the sky from a scraper |
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The Gerber out a baby mouth, the fire out of Satan's house |
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These rappers turned saints, we pull them fucking gauges out |
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Black Tims kicking in the door, at your lady house |
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He at the strip club, well fuck it, we gon wait it out |
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You tipped him off, so now all the K's is out |
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We ?, shot him down from the neighbor's house |
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(Hook) |
