Another G-Man Stan production
The originator of this 808 shit in the Bay Area
You got your boy JT the Bigga Figga thugging
It out with my young nigga the Game
And the homie Bluechip, Blacksox, oh boy
Hooked up with Get Low Records
Putting this shit together, my nigga
It ain't a nigga in the game that can hold me down
I've been independent forever so they know me now
And I'm the cat they gotta find when they wanna get signed
You wanna get your paper right you gotta study my grind
I'm like Rush in Krush Groove, a nigga that bust moves
Right out, and tuck tools, fullys that bust dudes
Ain't no beef in the briefcase, just beef for Pete's sake
We round up cats, to beat 'em in a street race
We count paper up, to make a nigga change his plans
They underweight so they ain't getting off they grams
They mad at my boys, cause we trapping 'em in
They make twenty then the Fig want ten
That's the rules that the Get Low play by
The block boys stay high, California stock with K-5
It's the rules that the Get Low play by
Them block boys stay high, the California K-5
The Blacksox doing a joint together
The whole world stopping to listen
Whole breakers pop locking to this
And white boys head bopping to sixes
Niggas boxing in prison
Shit bang hard like a conjugal visit
And the game ain't big enough for niggas so move over
Matter of fact move out, we taking over
Them boys is coming, and they aiming straight for the neck
The B-L-A-C-K-S-O-X
Well it's the B dot L dot, you know the rest
Wanted by the Feds, hated by the ATF
You can catch me at the DuPont Inn
Two dykes swallowing gin, shorty sucked me out of my Timbs
My bad, that's your wife? Fuck your life
Anyway, I heard you working for vice
You ain't real, man you hide behind ice
You's an imposter, snatch him off the roster
Always live by the rule, get dough, or die trying
Heart colder than the shining
Pass the bucket, now I'm back on Bennett
If beef was a race man my tool gon' finish
Never been the loudmouth type
Sugar Shane of this rap shit
Southpaw when the MAC spit
Listen rookie, don't make me mad boy
Or you gon' be like Bigger did Bad Boy
The Blacksox doing a joint together
The whole world stopping to listen
Whole breakers pop locking to this
And white boys head bopping to sixes
Niggas boxing in prison
Shit bang hard like a conjugal visit
And the game ain't big enough for niggas so move over
Matter of fact move out, we taking over
Them boys is coming, and they aiming straight for the neck
The B-L-A-C-K-S-O-X
Niggas think they got the game sewn
Yeah right I'm airtight, fresh in them Air Nikes
If the Navi outside, I might be there
Black hoodie, black nine, black wifey airs
Rock guns like Caddy trunks, keep a spare
You see the lump under the iceberg fleece and gear
When the beef cook, I'mma put the piece to your hair
And if you see a white truck that mean your sheets is there
Then I'm going going, back back to the block
To dump the bucket and jump in the drop
Niggas know I'm good with the Glock
They call me Chick Hearns, cause if
The game on nine, I'm calling the shots
I wear a shiny suit for a minute like I'm The LOX
Then get gangsta with a swap meet bag and a Jordan box
And when I die, bury me with the Glock
And a bucket of shells in case niggas want drama in hell
The Blacksox doing a joint together
The whole world stopping to listen
Whole breakers pop locking to this
And white boys head bopping to sixes
Niggas boxing in prison
Shit bang hard like a conjugal visit
And the game ain't big enough for niggas so move over
Matter of fact move out, we taking over
Them boys is coming, and they aiming straight for the neck
The B-L-A-C-K-S-O-X