[ verse 1: mc ren ]   Niggas in the hood lookin at me crazy   Tellin niggas like they wanna fuck my old lady   Same fuckin shit every day at 8 o'clock   Nigga, start my day off raisin off the cock   I throw the khakis on, with the t-shirt   Never knowin when a nigga might hit the dirt   I'm thinkin, how in the fuck can I get high quicker   Mix the blunt with some muthafuckin malt liquor   These niggas that I love, I don't trust em, but I stay close to em   In case I gotta do em   We from the same set, but that don't mean shit no mo'   I be premeditatin with the .44 (.44)   My hoe be tellin a nigga to peel they caps back   Cause I know where them niggas hide they shit at   Shit be on my mind, return a shot call   Broke as fuck, it's about to get hot, y'all      [ chorus: big rocc ]   Niggas starvin while you're home with the mills   Niggas killin while you're doin dope deals   Out flossin, throwin 100 $ bills   Time to set yo ass up for the kill   Death of a shot caller, who can you trust?    It might be your number 1 nigga that bust   A cap, he's the next one to take charge   Smoke him and his bitch in his backyard      [ verse 2: mc ren ]   A nigga's sittin on the curb   Hear that nigga come bumpin with the suburb   Got my niggas on point, same niggas he be fuckin hoes with   And rollin up the blunts when he wanna get lit   Homie, when that nigga put the mutahfucka in park?    That's the signal, little nigga, pump 3 in his heart   Don't feel shit, cause it's real shit, he a bitch   Niggas in the hood doin bad while he gettin rich   Off this shit we be killin niggas fo'   Can't make a move less this muthafucka say so   Nigga, fuck that, I'm runnin this shit   I'ma look him in his eyes when his punk-ass gettin hit   But if you miss, nigga, i'ma kill you   Cause if he get away, muthafucka, then we all through   Fuck 3 shots, nigga, add 2   And handle what the fuck you gotta do   Kill the shot caller      Man, you know we been smokin niggas for this muthafucka   This nigga ain't paid us shit, man   (I know, dog)   Hold up, hold up, hold up, dog   Man, gimme the gat, I - damn   Hey nigga, you got my muthafuckin money?    Nigga, fuck yo money, nigga   No nigga, fuck you   ( *shots* )   Oh shit, oh shit...   Damn!      [ verse 3: tha chill ]   These o.g.'s got me twisted like twizzler   Got me heated and hot, and all I'm thinkin is killin ya   Peelin ya cap back, like starter, fool   I'm comin to get you niggas off my block, so I pack a full   Glock with big slugs, and you know I buck no doubs   Cause you know a nigga steelo, how I did them fools a week ago   One week passed, I'm hearin you wanna wet us   When you see ren, rocc, tha chill, you're puttin on the jetters   What the fuck? these niggas tryin to bust on me?    So I'm cockin up the can and ready to make them do some gas   And do some flippin, and all that   Cause niggas out here shot call, get they ass jacked   And that's the main fact, big payback for you punk muthafucks   Disrespectin the crew, it's mandatory that I buck   Ass down from comptown, mr. shot caller   Gonna be a fast faller if he ain't a fast talker   Fast walker, or better yet better be a fast runner   Chill on the scope with the cannon, finna gun ya   Dumpin 9 to the gut like "nigga, what? "   This ol' b.g. big baller, fuck the muthafuckin shot caller      [ chorus ]