(feat. Bun-B, T.I.)

[T.I. talking]
Jim Jones what it is homie
Killa Cam, Freekz Zeeky, Juelz whats happ'nin
Hey 'a aye... yea yea yea 'a aye
T.I.P. nigga y 'a y yeeah. Aye a aye
I'm up in Harlem to put it down wit my muthafuckin folks

Dipset bitch. A-town IN THE muthafuckin NY
nigga you already know what it is. Bankhead
C-rod, Grand Hustle, Diplomats
you dont like it kill yaself nigga. Lets go

[verse 1 T.I.]
Late night straight white fa ya base pipe
No mo quarter O's get ya weight right
Crack rock black glock kept it waist height (hey)
It hit ya mug you dont imagine what ya face like
American pie I'm tellin you guys
you want beef wit us well who the fucks preparin you guys
We sparin you guys get buried alive
What you rushin fa, act like you in a hurry to die
Some I let 'em fly 'fore I let that ride
I paralize ya like Supermans horseback ride nigga
Walk up on ya car and scorch dat ride
Flat tires, glass shattered wit a corpse inside
A town break down straight pounds of dro'