New York, yeah, we G'ed up   Act up, clap the back of your knees up   Packin' the Mack in the back of the Beamer   Taxin' your cash and you ask me to ease up      I want to rock, now comply or get shot down   I know you gon' hire some cops now   Coca, sun down to sun up   Caly Cartel, used to be a runner      D Boy, stamp bricks with smiley faces   Show you how to turn that powder to a hundred acres   Let's get it, thank God for makin' crack raw   Now how you want it, the window or the chainsaw?      Crack, yeah, I'm nice with the knife game   Ice pick change your life with one strike, man   Too much rappin' and we don't rat   We do it for them trap stars servin' them packs      And e'er nigga know from way back to Houston   Joe's a go when push comes to shootin'   The 44 will loose more then just a tooth, man   A hundred shots will rip your top like where the roof went      I think he said somethin', bring 'em back to me   I let the chopper groove and let the Mack boogie   You better think about it, boy, you better think about it   You better think about it, boy, you better think about it      I got no papers on all them guns   So when I pull 'em out your ass best run, crack   You better think about, boy, you better think about it   You better think about, boy, you better think about it      This ain't for the niggaz hob-nobbin' in closets   This is for them niggaz that supplin' their projects   The man catch beef, say my nigga, I got this   Right in broad day, twist a nigga, then pop shit      I ain't playin', I got big guns   My niggaz barely speak English, they'll lift, son   The strip is mine, naw, you ain't eatin' here   I run this shit, at least in some recent years      And y'all know who rep the streets most   Terror Squad, we put the E in East Coast   So 'Be Easy' like T.I. said   Or them things'll pop up like a Chia pet      Or Chi Ali or any given clapper   Exorcist style, get your heads spun backwards   Them pistols'll go, your brain go splatter   A minute ago you were sayin' you'd get at us      Now why you had to go talk like that?   Get ya body outlined with the chalk like that?   I guess he must've thought I'd have fucked them cats   The oldest rule in the books, you should have brought them gats, now      I think he said somethin', bring 'em back to me   I let the chopper groove and let the Mack boogie   You better think about it, boy, you better think about it   You better think about it, boy, you better think about it      I got no papers on all them guns   So when I pull 'em out your ass best run, crack   You better think about, boy, you better think about it   You better think about, boy, you better think about it