Rock] Aiyyo Son (yo) aiyyo come downstairs Son (what?)

[batty bwoy] Asshole asshole asshole!

[Rock] There's like six bitch ass niggaz on the corner Son

(Aiyyo word?) These niggaz is rappin kickin raps n shit

Can't tell these niggaz they ain't hype

They punk smoove bullshit just meet me downstairs Son

I'ma set it on these niggaz Son

[Ruck] Yo I'ma be right there man I'm gettin dressed now

[Rock] These niggaz have no idea Son, check it check it



Verse One: Rock, Ruck



And one time for your mind, one time for the snitch droppin dime

Me don't wanna hear you whine when my nine's to your spine

Glock diss, Rocky, Mountain, energy's from my

fountain of youth runnin through my brain pounded

So don't be found in my clutches

If you don't who Sparsky is, then you don't know who Dutch is

Don't get snuffed kid, we cause ruckus

And rock mad domes while we at it who's the first up

to see blackness like the universe



Fuck that, niggaz better start runnin for shelter

Live and direct with a nine tenth that's that nigga from Heltah Skeltah

Word em up I murder ducks who never heard of Ruck plus

My mind ills on rhyme skills with the nine that I buck (blahhh)

Girls demand me, mad bitches I slam the

microphone you hand me till the judge remand me (what)

Can we, get along like Rodney, and Rock please

Put these niggaz in they proper place cause you cocky



I, be the drama bringer wringer of a niggaz neck

Wrecker of a set I buck shots with a steel tec

Wussy, where's all them suckers talkin tracks bout they RnRin

(They heard us comin and turned to track stars, check it)

I be, never sloppy, I be ROTC

I rock heads from Bedrock to Yugoslav-ia

Robbin you and your crew blind yeah we do crimes

Find that Absolut's fine, or in to behind

Now you whine, but yo stop the blood clot cryin

Like Screwface, I in the mood to bash your eyes in

Devils does know who I am, madman from Heltah Skeltah

Mr. Flipster, ROCK, Grandson of Sam



As the World Turns in my search for tomorrow

I seek the God in life, for some insight

Freaky like a golden shower when my golden bowels

Hit instrumentals get influential like Colin Powell, now

Fuck the world, stick my dick in the dirt

Pull tunes on spooks who claim I ain't cool like Levert

Expert when I network my lyrics like a rebel

Vexed cause the devil never take me to that next level

It's never humble in asphault jungles

When you slang rocks and Ricans in back deal with bundles

Some may wonder, the evil these two men do, torment you

Lyrical landlord, your fuckin rent due



Chorus:



Clans, posses, crews and kliks

All y'all bitch niggaz can suck my dick

Kliks, posses, crews and clans

Can't none of y'all niggaz fuck with me and my man



Verse Two: Rock, Ruck



Aiyyo, one's for the, shots I pop

Two's for the anti-real snakes I fought and dropped

Three's for the irrational Ruck, bitch!

I be Rock and the four's for hip-hop cause with this shit we rip shop

Ask me how foul I am, mannn you know damn well

it was me that hit your bitch up in my man's van

Too plexed your grand-pops then like corn I pop shit

You can't flush, fuckin with us you're smacked with hock spit

Who dare square with Rock me I break you

Tree times worse dan a bumba claat earthquake do

Heltah Skeltah is hectic hit the deck then step

if you wanna hear your neck click

See this center, but really play no basketball

I do my shootin with a motherfuckin mac you fall

To the floor, OGC hit up everything that come through the door

Recognize Heltah Skeltah mean war



So what's the reason for the treason, punk you wanna die

My mind crucify those who try to defy

God cipher devine drop bombs on the blind

In the mood to get rude with the lyrics instead of my nine (hah)

Now I (what) want a nigga to come with hand skills

Man chill, might end up in a landfill

Stand still, nigga you know the position

Glocks clickin from niggaz who ain't got pots to piss in

Plus I get hyped when my mic strikes windpipes

Me and Rock is this tight (there'll never be no fist fights)

You're lip punks when my fifth smokes the rich folks

who sniff coke, now your bitch broke ain't no misquote

I just spoke, wicked ways with words of wisdom

Like Cyclops I spot fly shots with ill vision

Similar to none Son so it fuckin seem

Savages get sewn the fuck up with shots to they spleen



Chorus: repeat 4X