( Kane talking)
This what it's all about once again huh
f*cking and sucking once again you p*ssless trash
You get on that block, you make my money
You make my money good you p*ssless trash
Chorus (Kane & Abel)
Only real n*ggas roll with me
Hit the block gun c*cked, n*gga pass the weed
Hustle we'll never knock, recognize the G
TRU playas indeed, TRU yes indeed
Verse 1 (Kane)
It's foolish how they be lovin that n*ggas sh*t like a b*tch
Makin them cut off your light switch when that trigger finger itch
n*gga it's my life, it's fine like that black Spice Girl
Bitin they lip when they taste this di*k, no trickin, diamonds and pearls
My n*ggas hard like sleepin on a steel matress in the hole for thirty days
Police on the payroll cause they know that nothin pay the way crime pays
f*ck you up like the little burn in Kool-Aid if you can't get paid
Get trapped in the one way, ready for the gun play
Bullets get sprayed with no delay
Chorus x2
Verse 2 (Abel)
Smokin that herb when I get disturbed, hit the streets like dice on the curb
These b*tch ass n*ggas get served, it's no word, these haters got some nerve
A n*gga named Master P told me hustle till I'm dead
Pitch black, catch a heart attack, like Fred I paint the whole town red
Hunt my foes till they casket close, spit on they grave, f*ck they hoes
Ain't nothin no love like a black rose, might hit they mama with a four four
They call me Mr. Abel, my brother, Mr. Kane
Stay TRU to the game, b*tch pray when the bullets rain, f*ck the fame
Come on
Chorus x3
(Abel talking)
Mr. Abel, Mr. Kane
American Meat, '99 n*gga
Any n*gga that f*ck with us, foolish as a motherf*cker
Like we said on the last motherf*ckin record
You run up, you get more holes then a golf course b*tch