(feat. Souljah Boy) [Krayzie] (Talking) 
Yeah, got my ******s from 
St. Clair up in this mutha******a, ****** 
P.O.D.'d, my ******, Sin 
Fin to put this ******t down like this, ****** (We off to the ghetto, ghetto, ghetto...) 
What if we slowed it down? 
Then, ******, you would hear me 
I know ******s would ****** around 
And say we tried to steal your style 
Come on to funky town, that's where we gets the rawest 
Thuggish ruggish Bone, so sho' nuff, that's what they call us 
My ******s is older, now, so they know when to unload 
So, when them funky, funky jump me 
Gon' be ready to roll (ready to roll) 
It's part of no static, see, we just out to get paid 
But, oh no, ******s heard the flow 
And wanted a piece of the cake 
It kinda pissed me off that? figured they could get skills 
But when kept on disrespectin' 
Make 'em think we ******t's real, ****** 
I'm from the Land where every ******s plan 
And schemin' for the money, man, so we packin' 
And they don't understand them ******s rappin' 
But still they actin' like criminals ? reciprocal 
They don't know it, even though 
Oh, no, no, can't let you go 
When I pop pop pop (pop, pop) 
That funk'll gon' blow you away 
Playa hation strikes a nerve everyday 
Oh, gotta say ****** all y'all, all y'all 
Wasteland warriors, we stressed, we stressed, we stressed [Krayzie] (Layzie) 
Warriors ride (bloody murder, bloody mo' murder 
Murder, murder, murder, play, play) 
Wasteland warriors ride (bloody murder, bloody mo' murder 
Murder, murder, murder, play, play) 
War corruptin' my mind [Souljah 
Boy] You know it is, what it's gotta be 
Ain't no stoppin' me when 
I be droppin' And these 
Mo Thug roll the sword from the front and back 
Don't stop, but the Double 
Glock they don't look out for these 
Where your troops is down to get loose, ****** 
Sue these stupid mutha******as 
Don't make me huff and puff and start some ruckus 'Cause the ******s be down for the count 
And the first ****** step up, get shut down 
You shouldna been takin' my ******' style 
That's how we still gon' do it in the 
C-Town Arrest me on the rebound 
It's the P to the O to the 
D from the T to the H to the 
U to the G You hoes ain't got mo' killas than me 
So mutha****** what you's thinkin' 
Brothas don't hit, they're weak and wrapped up in my sheet 
While your bullethole still be bleedin' 
But here's the reason for the season's on my mutha******' bank 
Why you lame, be actin' strange? 
Boom to bangs, ****** insanes 
Out to rearrange this mutha******' figure 
Knowin' damn well, I'm a mutha******' killa 
******, bow down, and 
I'm outta your picture 
Just might killa, got a cap peela, nine rounds spiller 
We done mutha****** you 
And you don't wanna see fade 'em all with the blood heater