[ JED ]  Nigga what's up  What?  What's yo muthafuckin problem?  - Better than sayin jack   They let me go  Yo muthafucka, I don't wanna hear that weak shit  - Nigga what?  Fuck that, I don't wanna hear that weak shit,  you old rat-infested goverment informant cheese-eatin ass son of a bitch!  You better have your vest on cause you 'bout to come up short  ( *shots* )    [ VERSE 1: Richie Rich ]  Caught a brother one day gettin out of a cop car  I know there's more to come, but the few that have so far  Talked to police about more than a court date  They're victims of a certain situation I'll illustrate  Day-to-day pigeons poppin all that junk  About the dollars they makin, a half a ki in the trunk  Mobile phone in his lap and ten cars in the shop  Sellin more than coke and side orders of hop  But there's a catch to that, the boy wasn't prepared  He caught a case on a humbug, now he's scared  No more hangin with the fellas drinkin gin and juice  He's in a situation now where he can't be loose  Everybody wears jailies and sleeps on bunks  And it's easy to tell the men from the punks  So the ones who rhyme but run they mouths like bitches  Wants to hit the bullpen, they turn snitches    [ JED ]  That's why I don't fuck with these old soft ass niggas,  out here runnin round here like they 187 artists.  Killers don't talk!  And these hoes supposed to be high roller ass niggas?  Ain't that a bitch!  Everytime I look around instead of stickin to the rules of the game,  they let circus asses makin decisions for themselves.  [ Richie Rich ]  Yeah, it's hard times, Young JED,  but it goes a little somethin like this:    [ VERSE 2: Richie Rich ]  The game is hard as wood, the macks don't splinter  But yet and still trick-ass niggas wanna enter  And with ballot in hand they rush to vote  To elect themselves into this game of dope  But yo bro, the situation is real  Don't slip in this game on a banana peel  There's a lot of brothers runnin around pluckin collars  Stuck up due to the fact they got dollars  Most of em punks gettin marked by young bitches  Put in the county, and the punks turn snitches  Given a alias, now he's set free  Or offered his job to be an f-e-d  I don't understand how a brother could turn  His cheek on another, homie, when will ya learn?  The talkin to cops makes it ten times worse  But they keep on talkin, verse after verse  Why do brothers wanna hop in this game?  Runnin around, they don't know the main frame  And when they're caught, they get to talkin like Polly  But they don't want a cracker, just bumpin em, snitchin  You know what I mean?  Now it's the high rollers and not the fiends  Take off the Rolex and park all the cars  You just a punk, yeah, you know who you are  Why did you get in the game if you wasn't equipped?  So what you're havin money and your car is whipped?  Keep talkin to police, then you're gonna get ???  Cause you'se a punk in a city of players, you'se a stupid muthafucka    [ JED ]  Double R..  What's up with these old broke, bus ticket-type ass bitches out here, huh?  Always tryin to get with a nigga with some mail..  They need to get a muthafuckin j-o-b..  Quit blowin up these niggas' beepers,  old stankin ass muthafuckin bitches..  Here's somethin I wanna tell all you hoes:  Fuck you!    [ VERSE 3: Richie Rich ]  Man, these hoes in the Town ain't shit  Can't fuck with a nigga unless he's rich  Sportin gold ones, man, tryin to make that mail  Hoe mopin and hopin that you would treat her to nails  Hoe, I can't treat, nah, nah, it's '89  Back in '87 when I was stuck to the grind  Money flowin like a river but hoe, I'm not trickin  My Zapco's hittin so hard, the light's clippin  Girls on the bus stop, all of them coppin a plea  To get with the man who slings d  Whether ridin a 'Stang or a rag top Beamer  The h-o's want to get with who's cleaner  So boys from the O, all of those who make riches  What do we do? Dog bitches  Knockin and sockin is a everyday thing  The turfs and the side show is where the boys hang  Hoe on jock for a brother with a fade  Some zeniths, some vogues and the boy's got it made  As she makes the block with a baby in a stroller  Her only destination: to find a high roller  But hoe get real, run and go get a job  Cause if I ever come to snatch ya, I be ridin a mob    ( *horn honked* )  [ woman ]  Who is that?  [ Richie Rich ]  It's me, come on..  [ woman ]  Ah-ah, I didn't recognize you in that shit..  Where your Mustang?  [ Richie Rich ]  Ain't that about a bitch?  These hoes out here think niggas gon' taxi em around on gold ones?  Nah-nah, it's 1990, y'all hoes better ??? to these muthafuckin old schools  Bitch, jump in the bucket..  [ woman ]  The door don't open..  [ JED ]  Double R, fuck that hoe!  Tell her make like the muthafuckin Duke boys and crawl through the muthafuckin window    (Snitches) (snitches) [fades]  (Bitches) (bitches) [fades]