Well - Slimm Calhoun, Killer Mike

Y’all playin with this game

And it’s a damn shame

Yeah

This game real, boy, you can get scarred and barred in it

If your heart ain’t in it, caught up in this world spinnin

Before you started you was finished, dehydrated and deplenished

Niggas is all washed up without a swallow in they cup

Cause everytime a chicken cluck, you trickin a buck

You pressed your luck and got stuck, fuckin up the re-up

That’s the ones with big talk and no game

Spendin chips but no change

All the dope and no caine

War stories but no pain

The same ones that pop lip then flag ship

Then gotta hip skip before real niggas pop clips

You better hop hip

(Well, well, well, well

Well, well, well, well)

Niggas slum and slimmed out

Chevy’s is primed out

Hit traps and grind out

What’s poppin, let’s find out

(Well, well, well, well

Well, well, well, well)

College Park

to Adamsville

Calhoun

and Killa Kill

Got 'dro and plenty pills

Cuttin blows, hoes and dip

(Well, well, well, well

Well, well, well, well)

In God I trust and in the crowds I bust

Smokin weed to calm down, I’m so blown off dust

It’s harder to feel pain when my brains is mush

I know it’s fucked up how fathers turn they back on us

And our sick sad mamas smoking crack on up

Slime-ass po-po right in the back of us

Connected muthafuckas got better crack than us

But rich muthafuckas ain’t gon' mash like us

Hear sirens coming and continue to bust

Lustful ways, livin in these mistrustful days

Who said crime don’t pay, niggas out here cockin k’s

Don’t drop, they spray, one shot, you lay, toxic waste

One pine box, one case, I’ll block yo place

I beat niggas senseless for Jordans and sixty dollars

Pinned hoes' toes to the earlobes and collars

In the back of a Impala, all to deliver pain

Twist her frame and hear her holler

So savage that it’s gettin harder

For me to see redemption in tomorrow

So far from God that I’m finding righteous paths hard to follow

I’m gulping vodka, I’m killin sorrow in the bottom of a sky bottle

So depressed and sick and

Slimm young and gifted

I’m just sick and twisted

Corner-clockin, in the backroom work-choppin

From Biscayne to Boat rockin, one-stop shoppin

Guarded by Glock and cash, ain’t no stoppin

They party pill-droppin till all the drawers droppin

'dro-ed up, my niggas stay poured up, sho nuff

Hold up, big bank we fold up, so who wanna roll up?

We got that heat, so you better drop that beef

Before they pop and sweep your whole block in one heap

Stay at the gun show in a Range cockin new thangs

Like we out west, playa, down to whoo-bang

Come on!