Cheech & Chong Skit:   Yeah, you pour wax on the table, uh huh, and you set it on fire      Jim Jones:   (Dipset) Uh, yeah (Uh)   You know (Let's do it)   This that dope boy shit nigga   (Ya dig) Ya smell me   (Can't) fuck wit' ya      [Verse 1: Jim Jones]    Your reign on the top, short like leprauchans   I came through in drops, Porches, and heavy charms   And I came from the block, was flawless with ex-cons   And we aimin' them Glocks, of course ready to bomb   Now I done seen a custy cop four pies of the same gear   I also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year   The concrete jungle, no trees to swing from   Just weed and gettin' drunk   And heaters gettin' dumped   Or hit the highway nigga, keys up in the trunk   Back up in the city with some skeezers in the Trump   I ain't a playa but I do my dirt dog   Droptop Mercedes, better move when it murk off   I got it swayin' to the left lane   Plus a nigga coughin' cuz the haze give me chest pain   Yes muthafucka, the boys are back   With my vest and I'm tucked up with my boys in back, fucka      Hook   Max B:    You don't want it with them niggaz   While y'all wildin', steady bitchin' my niggaz gettin' richer   Bet you mad cuz we eatin', bet you mad cuz we decent   Chop your body in pieces, leave you in bags by the precinct   Nigga we a regime, Byrdgang we the truth   Even four in Sedan, I'm swerving in the Coupe   See us whippin' the Benz, while swervin' in the Coupe   Oak wooden interiors, Persians in the roof   Shoot (Ruger) Shoot (Ruger)      Verse 2   Hell Rell:   Aw man, Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit again   Same black hoodie, yup   Same 4-5th again   Bitches stopped liking me but now they on my dick again   See me in that Aston with my chain glistenin'   Yeah I'm bustin' off the chrome   Yeah I'm 'bout to off your dome   Kill a mother and a father, kids go to foster homes   Yeah I like to floss the chrome   Nigga leave the boss alone   See my neck and my wrist, I'm rockin' what it cost for homes   Homie they don't call me Ruger for nuthin'   Back out on these bitch niggaz, get that Ruger to dumpin'   So don't run up on me nigga, you know I stay wit' it   G'd up from my Beef & Brocs to the Oakland A's fitted   That's the bottom to the top   That's in the bottom of the pot   I got it white, I got it tan, it's either you coppin' or you not   Nigga jets is pulling off and you stuck on the curb   D-I-P, B.G., fuck what you heard   Ruger      Hook   Max B:   You don't want it with them niggaz   While y'all wildin', steady bitchin' my niggaz gettin' richer   Bet you mad cuz we eatin', bet you mad cuz we decent   Chop your body in pieces, leave you in bags by the precinct   Nigga we a regime, Byrdgang we the truth   Even four in Sedan, I'm swerving in the Coupe   See us whippin' the Benz, while swervin' in the Coupe   Oak wooden interiors, Persians in the roof   Shoot (shoot) Shoot (shoot)      Verse 3   Jim Jones:   We all strapped in the ride, I ain't talkin like the elderly   Yak when we drive, like we rollin' fuckin' felony   Trap to survive, get the buck selling keys   It's hard to get by, that's why we puff hella weed   But if this high don't come down   I feel the walls spinnin' like the sky gon' come down   I need air, top of the ride gon' come down   And I swear I stay fly when i jump out   Jeweled up in ice, that bent that dude like   Spyda, 430, with the blueish lights   Got the Coupe bright, but we still shoot dice   For my niggaz on the Eastside, this is true life      Hook   Max B:   You don't want it with them niggaz   While y'all wildin', steady bitchin' my niggaz gettin' richer   Bet you mad cuz we eatin', bet you mad cuz we decent   Chop your body in pieces, leave you in bags by the precinct   Nigga we a regime, Byrdgang we the truth   Even four in Sedan, I'm swerving in the Coupe   See us whippin' the Benz, while swervin' in the Coupe   Oak wooden interiors, Persians in the roof   Shoot (shoot) Shoot (shoot)