[Intro: Tek]
Take it back to like motherfucking 80s and shit
Niggas used to be passing them thangs, you know what I'm saying

[Verse 1: Tek & Steele]
My first love was a deuce-deuce, nice and slim
Tucked in my Chucker boots, what a priceless gem
When I took her out to the clubs, we got right in
She kept me safe, even held me down in fights with men
I like my murda mamis loud and thick
Handle tight on grip, not shy to spit
Make daddy proud of shit
Four foot' five hooker, move the whole crowd looker
Short stack black, well-done beef cooker
My tre-eighty kept me crazy dunn, she had me whipped
In the whip high, riding by, ready to spit
She like to talk shit, she's a cocky bitch
Firm grip, all black, like liquorice
I sleep with hoes and, creep with hoes
Eat off hoes, I love these four-fours
Or the 9 double, in the L Bubble
Smash security with sumthin, we all in the scunnel

[Hook: Steele & Tek]
These are the tools of the trade That we use to get paid
When we cruise in Escalades on escapades With guns ablaze
Been amazed since the younger age, saved from the hunger pain
Bang when the trouble came, Pioneers of gun slang
How you with them things? A little somethin' somethin'
Fire to the game My system be thumping (Pa-POY-POY!)
Pa-POY-POY! The sounds of guns bussin'
Pa-POY-POY! Your heart just stopped pumping

[Verse 2: Tek & Steele]
It was love at first sight when I burst the pipe
Off the project roof in the middle of night
On the block, Independence day, pistols ignite
Ghetto tunes we vibe to, write rhymes and recite
Nigga, my forty-four was raw, she had me wired
Had my dick rock-solid, first time I fired
Had a sis that was silent, Smif-N-Wessun medallion
Only fuck with professionals, and kids with thousands
One bitch her ass was plump
Nickname China shotgun, nigga used to love how she pumped
She kept the money looking double barrel
Shoe string around my neck, the whole party peril(?)
You run your whole apparel
Boots, coats, chains, rings and wallets
Break your pockets. Love when niggas think they brolic
Jump up and wanna wrestle, dog we don't tussle
Squeeze off, let a gang of little pellets touch you

[Hook: Steele & Tek]
These are the tools of the trade That we use to get paid
When we cruise in Escalades on escapades With guns ablaze
Been amazed since the younger age, saved from the hunger pain
Bang when the trouble came, Pioneers of gun slang
How you with them things? A little somethin' somethin'
Fire to the game My system be thumping
Pa-POY-POY! The sounds of guns bussin'
Pa-POY-POY! Your heart just stopped pumping

[Verse 3: Tek & Steele]
Get 'em at six, when they brains open a range
Show 'em the reins, and how to squeeze eight of them things
Let them grow for a spell, then I catch 'em at twelve
With the one in their head, that's how I'm taking the L
When they graduate to sixteen, it's all bets off
Shells casings no relations, when the semi's lettin off
My nine milli had me silly, smoking 'dro in phillies
Feeling like a big Willy, takin' cabs to the city
Seven-forty illy, twisting the sticky hash from Ricky
Trigger itchy, nice and slippy, fuck wit me
Have you ever seen a forty five before?
Big Mac-11 nozzle right 'pon your jaw

[Hook: Steele & Tek]
These are the tools of the trade That we use to get paid
When we cruise in Escalades on escapades With guns ablaze
Been amazed since the younger age, saved from the hunger pain
Bang when the trouble came, Pioneers of gun slang
How you with them things? A little somethin' somethin'
Fire to the game My system be thumping
Pa-POY-POY! The sounds of guns bussin'
Pa-POY-POY! Your heart just stopped pumping

[Outro: Steele (Tek)]
Your heart just stopped pumping
Your heart just stopped pumping
(Flatline) It's what we do (Flatline)
It's what we are (Flatline)
Smif-N-Wessun, Tek and Steele, Cocoa B's
Cocoa B's, PNC
Niggas you love to hate (either or, you wanna be)
Either or