They don't get any bigger than this)

(Ain't no half-steppin)

(They don't get any bigger than this)

(Ain't no half-steppin)

(They don't get any bigger than this)

(Ain't no half-steppin)

(Till you get to Colombia)

(Ain't no half-steppin)



[ VERSE 1: Richie Rich ]

This one is dedicated to the posse

The founder, the author of 'Niggas Just Jock Me'

The DJ Daryl who cuts so sweet

Fuck the bullshit, the man makes beats

The Jigga, the gee, the J, the E, the D

My road dog, the man Slick Money

415 complete, that's it

A new year's resolution to make hits

'89 my pen and paper were taxed

But see in '90, my shit is comin on wax

Money put together right, so we could use it

Talent so damn tight, we make music

Loc, a mic artist, straight sinister

DJ Daryl on the cut, the Prime Minister

The J the E the D, straight lethal

But in the '90s he's goin legal

Those who don't know will soon be realizin

That the crew is just 41Fivin



[ *DJ Daryl cuts up* ]

(Ain't)



[ VERSE 2: Richie Rich ]

415 is the code to the Eastside

So if you're not strong, fold to the weak side

Loc's got the ammo, I ride the tank

Daryl does the cuttin and JED packs the bank

All from the Oaktown, but different spots

Don't catch a bullet, punk, it's way hot

The stage belongs to the crew that's on it

So think about the funk before you say that you want it

Because we came to do a show and we do it legit

And we packed along a posse just to kill up shit

See, a joke is a joke, like pullin a plug

You catch a hot one when you're fuckin with a thug

We don't play that shit, we believe in survival

But we'll cold catch a murder beef when we're 4