(Code 6)
Whoa na niggas, it`s that wicked Westbank puttin` it down again,
Worldwide status, you know how we do it,
Off top baby, it`s a street thing
Chorus (Tre-8):
Nigga do what`cha wanna,
Maintain, do ya thing how you wanna,
Any nigga talk stupid he`s a goner,
Body bag, toe tag, call the coroner, whoa
Nigga do what`cha wanna,
Maintain, do ya thing how you wanna,
Any nigga talk stupid he`s a goner,
Body bag, toe tag, call the coroner, whoa
First Chorus (Tre-8):
Paper chaser off top,
Livin` foul cuz you hot,
Slugged up, thugged out, on your way to the top,
Too hot for these bitches, lil` Daddy, you on fire,
Hoes they admire your whole attire cuz you not for a shopper,
Then your peers, look here, you the shit,
Role` around your wrist, livin` life like you rich,
It`s a part of the game to maintain so do your thang,
These bitches know they can`t hang,
So you glisten like a chain,
Shinin` and big timin`,
Blindin` like a diamond,
Hoes, steady whinin` cuz you always shinin`,
Drivin`, in a Benz, next day in a Lex,
With a triple beamer but it ain`t finished yet,
Faw, they can`t take ya, shive is in your nature,
Hoes they wanna date`cha,
Niggas wanna erase ya,
That`s a technical foul, throw them bitches out the game,
Well get it, how you live, in other words do your thang
Chorus
Second Verse (Code 6):
Man, these niggas don`t know my steez I throw the beats,
Talk a bitch down to her knees when it comes to makin` cheese,
Nigga please, I only associate with G`s,
Ice Mike Entertainment we bring it to you with ease,
Swarmin` like killer bees,
In your system like weed,
And your hood, and your radio and TV,
And we all in, haters wanna see us fallin`,
You think we ballin`, but still blunts be callin`,
We got dealers and killas in every ward,
Lil` thugs with Dillingers in their back pocket, now that`s hard,
Runnin` you niggas heads, bodies turnin` up dead,
Raw is how we play it,
You know somethin`? Better not say it,
Witnesses don`t make it out,
And it don`t matter how you hear it
or if you see it don`t open up your fuckin` mouth
Mindin` your business is a plus,
And holdin` court on the street is a must,
Especially for us
Chorus
Third Verse (Zeeda):
Slugged up, thugged out,
Takin` niggas out,
It`s the bitch with the clout,
Comin` straight from the South,
With the boots in my mouth,
The ice around my neck,
Now watch this bitch flex,
Cuz I`m rollin` in a Lex,
Got it up in the game,
Goin` out with a bang,
Somethin` like a rig or tanks,
And I`m stickin` like a stain,
Wet them boys in the brain,
Comin` sharper than a pane,
Killin` hoes no remains,
Got some dope? I`ll leave `em drained,
I`m the bitch with the ice,
Roll a seven on the dice,
Trigga platinum on the sights,
So you know we ain`t nothin` nice,
And I`m all about the price,
Buy weight or your life,
Keeps a pistol or a knife,
Try to fuck me we gone fight,
Rest up all with your wife,
Sleepin` on the bunk tonight,
Met my bail, watch me kite,
Fuck a ride, watch me hike,
Mail came, all the night,
See a bitch all in the stripes,
But I say I can`t fuck around, Lil` P-P ain`t nothin` nice
Chorus
