[Verse 1: Trizz]
Talk that shit, get rocked to sleep! i cut niggas they pop the heat
I’m paid as fuck but talk is cheap, move real quiet, cus the loudest weak
Out here smoking on the loudest tree, killa kali nigga who wild as we
Nobody bitch, we down to creep on niggas who live right down the street
Its real out here, nigga fuck y’all, get killed out here, niggas ducked off
Prices on heads, get cut off, tryna act hard…get fucked off
South Side Cali to the ATL. gettin paid as hell, we paid to scale
Off caine we sell, cuz me made to fail, n we don’t trust shit niggas paid to tell
And u niggas don’t want it, I’m coming to getchu I’m on it, fuck u niggas
Who be talking that shit and be hella phony, niggas actin like we homies
Muthafucka u don’t know me, all u pussy niggas owe me, u a rida nigga show me!
Neva stress ova bitch niggas, only ride wit my bitch, nigga….ridin around gettin rich
Nigga, low key like a snitch nigga
My mind stay state fucked up, always drunk n high stay fucked , diss my camp get
Fucked up, back down, got me fucked up
Young n dumb but smart as fuck, they hate on me cuz I’m hard as fuck
And these niggas trash, garbage trucks, fuck any niggas that target us

[Hook: Trizz]
Its fucked up where I live at, hood life, I live that
Respect u gotta give that if u want it back where I live at
This old shit, i been strapped, get robbed go get it back
Sit back wit all the chit chat or yo life we end that

[Verse 2: Rittz]
Lil homie just got murdered for a pair of J's, now his parents gotta bury they son
Cuz the young muthafucka pulled his and shot'em to get his shoes, lookin where he lays
What a waste, man the world can be a scary place, life passin by the wind don't let it marinate
Seen a hustler gettin paid, watch his head inflate, tryna play Superman, and wear his cape
He afraid starin at his face ??? Wait! let me narrate, we used to carry blades back in 10th grade
Homie got shanked, a couple years past and ????? got shot point blank, in the head
Cuz he forgot he was swimmin in a shark tank, put on yo war paint, homie yo car ain't
Bulletproof, pull up to yo house in the broad day, you get robbed cuz you talkin
You flossin! you coughin up blood, prayin to God up in the drive way! Homicide!
They shoot to kill! its too for real, they plottin on ya shoes, ya pills, ya lose ya wheels
And it don't matter who ya is, a shooter, lose its coo you might lose a limb or lose ya life
Its ova, he's goner now, murder murder terminator, John Connor style, my homie Trizz said they on his scalp, they keep on playin we gone have to bring them muthafuckin choppers out cuz its fucked up
Where I live at!!

[Hook] x2