Any corner, any street, any town
King Street, no boy can this way
A weh dem wan do? Come violate we
Yo, you see where we come from?
We make boy family can't find dem
(Maneesh on the beat)

Telephone ringin', what the fuck them niggas say?
They don't want no smoke 'cause them killers on the way
Telephone ringin', what the fuck them niggas say?
Put them handguns up, nigga, we ain't come to play

We bringin' sticks (Baow, baow, baow)
We in the sticks (Grraow, baow, baow)
With the sticks
They tryna pin it on us, but it won't stick (Baow, baow)
It won't stick

Hello? Y'all niggas ain't gon' kill shit
I been bangin' thirty years and I'm still lit
Your Glock got that thing on it? Fuck that lil' shit
My granny was the first bitch with a real switch
I made Chris Brown a blood
that's somethin' y'all gotta deal with
So let Chris rock or I'll smack the fuck out Will Smith
And that's real shit, I ain't no actor
Ask around Bompton, they gon' tell you he a factor
They gon' tell you he ain't rap type
tell you he be trippin'
That he pop up out the blue
they ain't gon' say that he was Crippin'
Uh-uh, never was, never will be
And that right there'll make a fuckin' Crip kill me, mm
But my cousin ain't gon' stand for it
He from Avalon and they be strapped like Jansports
To live and die in LA, fuck you layin' for?
Chopper ridin' shotgun, fuck I need my hands for?
You outside? So is the homicide
So is the crash-outs and the YNs, they tryna die
For better words, it's gon' be a long summer
So tell the grim reaper he callin' the wrong number

Telephone ringin', what the fuck them niggas say?
They don't want no smoke 'cause them killers on the way
Telephone ringin', what the fuck them niggas say?
Put them handguns up, nigga, we ain't come to play

We bringin' sticks (Baow, baow, baow)
We in the sticks (Grraow, baow, baow)
With the sticks
They tryna pin it on us, but it won't stick (Baow, baow)
It won't stick

To who it may concern, keep my name out your mouth
And I'ma do my best to keep the gang out your house
'Cause I'm bang the fuck out
stay in your lane, run your route
'Fore I remember who I am and pull them
things out the couch, I swear to God
I feel like I was born at the wrong time
'Cause niggas don't stand on business like I stand on mine
So fuck friends, it's just me and this chrome 9
Don't make me click it like I'm
done with this phone time, nigga
I been smokin' Black & Milds since a child
So run your fuckin' fouls 'cause pussy niggas out of style
Caught him lackin', what's happenin'?
Where your homies at now?
Nigga reached in his jacket
hit him with the (Baow, baow, baow, baow)
Kick that nigga leg
Pat his pockets, make sure that nigga dead
Flip that nigga over, now he tryna crawl
With his phone in his hand, who the fuck you gon' call?

Telephone ringin', what the fuck them niggas say?
They don't want no smoke 'cause them killers on the way
Telephone ringin', what the fuck them niggas say?
Put them handguns up, nigga, we ain't come to play

We bringin' sticks (Baow, baow, baow)
We in the sticks (Grraow, baow, baow)
With the sticks
They tryna pin it on us, but it won't stick (Baow, baow)
It won't stick

Baow, baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow
Grraow, baow, baow