[A.L.T.]
G's up, hoes down, pull your gun out...
G's up, hoes down, pull your gun out...

(Verse 1)
Do you wanna dance with me, let's do the gangsta waltz
It's bounding like a thousand volt
Like an electric volt that goes {*bzzz*} ZAP
Or a six-pack, (???) smoke, whenever I rap
Who's that, the hard heads, of course, it's us
Now everyone supports or endorses us
Expect, of course, how bitches are divorcin' us
They want the Porshes, the money and the orchestras
I even got burned from my tax return
But I learned how to hide all the stacks I earn
Let the turntables turn, let the drugs burn
Step back, I might stamp like some thugs on sherm
I'm blessed, they don't test me for cess these days
Bitch, get undressed, just molest my face
Now fuck peace, you can rest in rage
Me and Tony rock the casa, can you guess my age

Chorus: A.L.T
G's up, hoes down, pull your gun out
We can do the gangsta waltz
Let a couple fly, make everybody run out
We can do the gangsta waltz
G's up, hoes down, pull your gun out
We can do the gangsta waltz
Let a couple fly, make everybody run out
We can do the gangsta waltz

(Verse 2)
Do you wanna get high with me, smoke a philly crone (You feel me)
What's really goin' on
What's really gonna happen when I'm rappin' and the crowd starts
Snappin', flippin' out, stompin' and clappin'
They got the hand stamp, now they want back in
You tell 'em "No," and they might start attackin'
I hate this
I don't need to take this crap
It's a mistake to push my buttons, you might make me snap
I reach back, just like that, and go smack
Now your eyes all black, your cigarettes in ya lap
Look at that, better pack on the foundation
It's a case, fool, you got beat like a bitch foundation
Start to chase, it's a sticky situation
It's the thirteenth, it's Friday, and I'm Jason
You seen the movie, here's the knife and a pistol
Tonight, you ran from the Boogieman in Camp Crystal

Repeat Chorus

(Verse 3)
Do you wanna ride with me, in a Lex
And have sex, while my homeboy directs
Just relax until you hear "Action"
Then show me your rack like the girls do in Maxim
And when I get 'em through the bedroom doors
It's strange, but they change to derange little whores
When it rains, it pours, got 'em on all fours
Like porn stars, fuckin' on my hardwood floors
Intense, but eventually
I'm convinced I'm a rap for a century
Don't get all pissed at me or want sympathy
When they mention the Hellafyde symphony
It's a classic and every A&R who passed it
I call them rat little bastards
What the fuck were you thinking, are you all on acid
Bag 'em up, ship 'em out, paper or plastic

Repeat Chorus