作曲 : Corey Woods/Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs
Yeah, scandalous
Yeah, miraculous the arsonists
Yo, kicked down the door on the spot, 2602
L, I heard they had 
O's for sale
I heard the same shit, money drive a 
Burgundy whip
Keep it low, faded licenses plates and great plate
Where's the cat from, think he's from 
New Jerusalem
Pretty Rick did his thing for him, but he was using him
Power sun, jungle, physical, you know the 
GodHe go with 
Tim, the one who called lover of 
GodY.E.quality 
S.Elf, I know the natural law now
It's time to get the 
God you and blow like mines
But on the low 
I heard he got born original sin
Back in a drive-through 
Kentucky Fried shot up his ack
We got to get him 
Dunn, aliens is snatchin' our bread
U.F.O.'s movin' in with bigger plans than fed, yo
Knock on daddy 
O's door get the scope
He's not home, he took 
Ishmael to 
Park Slope
There go the the dreads yo, swindle two bags of that stuff
That get you crashed out had you laid out like bums
Peace Keana, what's up with your girlfriend 
WandaShe drive a green 
Honda with legs like 
Jane Fonda
I just left her, she took 
Rashean to 
Pathmark then
Jetted to canal to get her man some 
ClarksShe said, "Be back in ninety minutes, Ghostface God forbid"
She say, "Peace to W, who's watchin' the kids?"
Two hours later, scheamin' like 
Deniro in 
CasinoSon better have more coke than 
Al PacinoKeana ain't tellin' no lies, last year she did a 
Sting and a half
And Tymeek bought her a aircraft
But anyway, yo, daddy 
O home, we need the shotties nidow
When we get back, throw you a bit out
Later that night, stay mesmerized yo
Go get the green 5, meet you on the corner of 
MarriotYou ready, you got the 
E and J and 
The Machete?
We goin' upstairs, 
I hope one nigga is empty
We walked in both of us looked like terrorists
Masks on, second floor, 
Dunn yo, I handle this
Kick in the crib, the whole shit looked graphical
Natural, ****in' a white bitch, actual
Fiends chantin', "Do your thing chef, handle it"
I shot him in the neck, it ricocheted and hit 
CarolynRan to the back analyzin', much disguisin'
Surprise we comin' and their eyes were tranquilized
And buggin', throwin' her twin cousins at his nugget, **** it
Meet Shottie 
Waddy slug body hobby
Where the drugs, where the ounces you be bouncin'
Fake cats announcin' on the block, you loungin'
Where the blow at, 
I ain't got shit, stop frontin'
Yo chef, throw the joint in his mouth, money'll start stuntin'
Bitch, show that bit, before 
I push your wig back
Chef stop wavin' that, show him where the paper at
Come here 
Valerie, you know the 
God he need a salary
Put down the pipe here's two tickets to a coke gallery
It's in the kitchen in the ceilin' baby girl kept squealin'
Only found a white block of cheese from 
New Zealand
Oh shit, yo, yo where that shit at yo?
Yo Chef, where that shit? 
What?