[Hook: Horseshoe G.A.N.G.] H to the O, R-S-E-S-H to the O E gang, we came straight for your ho We got paper to blow We in it to win it the minute we came in the door
[Verse 2: Demetrius, Julius, Kenny & Dice from Horseshoe G.A.N.G.] Aight, fuck you, pay me, pay us the dough Then it's fuck you, pay me, pay us some more All you haters should pay up, and pay what you owe Or get ate up, get sprayed up, and laid up with hoes I keep it straight up for sho', y'all just straight up for show Y'all pussy, period, change up your flow Like a menstrual cycle, straight up ya know I'm an instrumental psycho Reminiscent of a nigga named Michael I'm a thriller, I wake up with flows And I never make up with hoes And I put the MAC to your face, that’s how I make up with hoes Hoes, yea I'm laid up with those And everyone one of my hoes are A1, ya know You know I got a centerfold, getting rid of clothes Nothin' on but them Kenneth Coles Since day one I go, hard Wait a minute let me switch gears When I'm stiff as a board, I give them dick till they sore I cut em like I'm gripping a sword, a big spear I should win an award for flyest nigga this year I'm the shit, yeah, my swag is celebrated When I step up in this bitch every chick cheer Chit-Chea, girl sit here, lift brazier Lemme skeet on your tits, let the shit smear When I'm fuckin a woman, I'm up in her stomach My dick is in belly, I'm sincere Y'all not fly, you pricks queer You couldn’t get a Pretty Woman if you were dressed in rich gear Your bitch rear, make my snake soft She never quarreled my mind, you a mime can't talk Your bitch plain, you can only call my bitch plain Cos' she fly when she take off Shall I carry on, I love a landing strip Feelin airborne, because of cannabis Fuck the rulebook, laws, we breakin' em We on some fuck the book, until that paper cums Yeah, yeah, I got the heart of Machiavelli, I brought a MAC elevy You be fallin' like confetti Whatever you thought of, I bet you we thought of that already Whatever you started, I bet you we off of that already You better be ready for the deadliest melodies But ready or not, I chop you like I brought a damn machete I fuck pornstars, with stars I 69, like I'm calling back your celly
[Verse 3: Iceman] So many niggas I got a problem with Sittin on the top of my llama list When I'm haukin' spit, from the bottomless pit To your rims of your dodger fit – blaow I pull the crowd out of their seats When I say you're weak, I don’t talk about no calendar speech Don’t make me turn Super Saiyan Cos everything that Im saying is suped up Steroid shots, juiced up If my verbal had a physical form, it would be chiseled as Thor One stomp will probably cripple the floor My jordans put crack in the streets like earthquakes For jordans put crack in the streets, yeah work pays I kill rappers like theres no repercussions I'm in love with death, call it reaper-crushin
[Verse 4: Coniyac]
[Verse 5: BIG PHO] I'm passed passion, now I'm obsessed with this rapping shit If I catch you in traffic, that crash will be an accident I'm sending these murderous paragraphs, by telegraph Them bullets ain't got no name, lemme get your autograph Let me explain what these lyrics might do Perfect aim, right through, you tell me am I getting through to you Delivery is beautiful, your reaction is suitable Impact from the mac, push you back like a cuticle You niggas is cubicle, in my circle you unfamiliar I don't write bars, nigga I write spears If you get the point, it kills ya I'm Alpha and Omega, I'm what weak niggas claiming to be If God win an award, he goin' get on stage and give thanks to me
[Verse 6: Karelezz] Hand me the mic and I go crazy when I grab it I turn into an alien deoxyribonucleicacid Master this element, selling this rap intelligence Nobody's half as devilish, definition of what clever is A mic master, writing in the lines of Nascar Fuck being a rapper, shoulda been a scientist from NASA But its C.O.B. official, hit you with lyrical missiles Bitch I'll never miss you, my shit'll rip through your tissue And if you don't get it, it's probably so high that God do Look up, blaow blaow, nigga that's what the COB do Psycho on the microphone, never leave the microphone The rap's a billion miles long, I’m cycling my bike home
[Verse 7: P.W.T] You don’t wanna know me, believe that shit Cause on the mic I rip that shit I grip the clip, I load it up I aim the gun I let it buck! I give a fuck Not at all See I’m gonna be the start of your fall The end and everything in between You think I’m doing this shit to be mean, NAH I’m doing it because you’re wack as fuck you a bitch! When your rhyme is a disaster I should call your ass Canibus There’s no way you can handle this I suggest you don’t talk shit Even if you’re wearing sandals bitch I suggest you rock kicks! I ain't going to fucking battle rap you I ain't going to make no song about you I’m the type that will fucking snap and take your family from you So when you see me, better hit that dough When I raise that thing, better hit that floor And this is just a warning to let you know That the COB is in control
[Verse 8: AD-VICE]
[Verse 9: Sauce Tha Boss] I’m a boss, you heard, I draw first They blood across the sidewalk nigga, they call me Sauce Mossberg My flow the kinda dope you don’t snort My money stack tall homeboy, we different, your dough short If I catch you slippin' I’m sittin' on yo' porch I’m grippin' that blow torch You gettin' yo' dome scorched My team winnin' Plus Cali’s my home court I’ll piss on yo' cold corpse Then dip in a gold porche, playa You niggas should be watching ya mouth I’ll pop you if I catch you mention Watts in your mouth The choppers is out Shots make you lean wit' it, rock wit' it, skip wit' it like you not from the South
[Verse 10: RO] Skipped math class but I'm out here doing functions Balling up hundreds, call it number crunchin' Throw away money, I'm just shooting at them buckets Winning like Pacman, fuck them judges Barely break a sweat, ain't gotta catch my breath They comin' for my neck, they catch a right and a left Now that leaves a big L, like a right and a left And I don't need that stress, you know I'm doing my best My spear got swag, I'm fresh past death If you don't hear how dope I am, your ass is deaf Maybe you just blind, you know you don't go dumb I put the nozzle on your head, now think under the gun
[Verse 11: Tim West] I got a mean flow While I'm pissing on these nigga's don't sweat it Now that's a peacoat, you need a hero But I got I feeling, imma' villain Cos' I'm killing every mother fucker scene bro' I'm on it, you want it, you need it, I got it You biting like Tyson bitch I'm weaving and bobbing Fuck rolling off a pill, bitch I'm first on the bill (?) All my nigga's like Buffalo they going for the Bills You ain't as hot as me, bitch I'm a star Im shittin' on these nigga's, we call that asstronomy Tim West, watch me rock it like the bassline I throw this clock in the trash, now watch me waste time
[Verse 12: One-2] You’ll get knocked unconscious tryna stop this Voltron shoulders retractable rocket launchers God, this monster C.O.B entourage of mobster’s Oxycotons washed down with shots of vodka, got Cynical criminal thoughts, a villainous boss At the round table with good fellas sitting across Toss ideas back and forth like it was lacrosse Plots on how to make our pockets thicker than Ross I’m boo-boo'd up with your bitch in the loft Lauren Hill ain’t wish it me the killer if I sense the competition is soft Non-believers will taste grapes of wrath This .38 will turn your face into a Jason mask One-Dash