[Lil Fame]
  Time to duck, fire
  Duck, fire, duck, fire
  Duck, fire, duck, FIYAAAAAAAHHH!
    (U Don't know what you're doing, doing, doing, doing)
    It's the MOP (Yes)
  1, 1, 2, 3, 3
  And motherfucker we comin, 100 miles and gunnin
  I'm still runnin with cash that's robbed
  From the era of exhale 80's and hats back stomp
  (SAME GAME!) operation for this industry lockdown
  We still tote hammers that go BLOCKOWWWW
  Run up if you wanna, believe me dog
  These hammers with they owners, fuck ya G up
  Have ya with blue 'jamas in a coma, and
  Ya family now moan, look, 70 pounds gone
  A little fuck, scribbled up with a hospital down on
  (WE HOLDIN IT DOWN HOLMES!)keep pushin weak frail bastards
  To get over, we prowl with slimmer re-shelled tactics
  Jiminy frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups
  No limit, what the fuck, recordin for nig' junior
  (The game aint changed)it just got harder
  Plus we sponsored by laz' Dame Dash and Mr. S. Carter
  Brownsville(yep), we stomp in this bitch all day
  Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage
    [Billy Danze]
  Uh, Uh, Uh, I'm from the G side of thangs
  Where we ride and bang, where the heat died of flame
  That's how we got the name(WARRIORS!)
  And better than ya bank, and someone should be tellin 'em
  The veterans have came, and we're better in the game
  (YOU BETTER MAKE IT RAIN!) "27 grams" my man
  It's better than cocaine, now everything will change
  In this family we'll rule the world
  And you haters can eat a dick up till you hiccup and erm
  A decade on the grind, nigga I paid mine
  So it's my time to shine and for you can ride the pine
  I wont sit back and rap like these dumb ass kids
  I been around, I put it down, I aint these young ass kids
  (MOP!) The OG's repped and survived around this motherfucka
  (FIRST FAMILY!) We kept it live around this motherucka
  When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay
  For shizzle my nigga, learn to grip pistols and BK
    [Jay-Z]
  WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!
  Turn my music high, high, high, high-er
  Mo' fire, mo' problems, more Roc-a-wear attire
  Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired
  Mo' murder for the ROC empire, ya'll wont surface
  Ya'll nervous knowin them guns on full service, ready to fire
  One body, two body, three body, four
  Young sittin on paper, I'm above the law
  Young shittin on haters, I aint fuckin with ya'll
  For my Brownsville neighbors, How About Some Hardcore?
  And it just get worser, every time I write my signature in cursive
  Just add another million to these verses
  One million, two million, three million, four
  And the money's really worthless, I'm pissing you off on purpose
  My nephew's situated, and my mama's straight
  So I'm ready for whatever drama should come our way
  And you fuckers rappin to me, so your drama is fake
  Ya'll niggas is noodles, I got more fetti to bake
  Let's get it!