Artist: Killer Mike f/ Bun B, T.I., Trouble Album: R.A.P. Album Song: Big Beast Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com [Killer Mike] Hardco' G shit, homie I don't play around Ain't shit sweet 'bout the Peach, this Atlanta, clown Home of the dealers and the strippers in the clubs doe Catch you comin out that Magic Cty with a snub, hoe Lurkin in the club, o' tourists muh'fuckers Welcome to Atlanta - up the jewelry, muh'fucker! These monkey niggaz lookin for some Luda and Jermaine and all that nigga found was a Ruger and some pain POW motherfucker POW! Come up off the chain POW motherfucker POW! One off in they brain We some money hungry wolves and we down to eat the rich Your bodyguard ain't shit, we strip him like a stripper bitch These real ass killas move in silence with violence The minute it's set off, we the motherfuckin wildest I am from the Atlanta that they never speak upon Where everybody got a sack of dope and a gun [Chorus: Trouble] Now you know just how it goes We ain't playin 'round with that bullshit Nigga, we ain't lettin shit go When you come in you betta come correct It's real G shit, you gotta show respect [Bun B] Once upon a time in the projects An OG saw a young Bun B as a prospect Thought that I would understand the streets from a very young age (age) So he opened up the G-Code to the front page (page) He sat me on the porch, said this where lil' dogs sit Pointed at the yard (yard), said that's where big dogs shit (shit) He said don't leave 'ti yo' ass get growed (growed) And don't come back 'til yo' ass get throwed (throwed) Whatever you want is whatever you can have Bring the pain and leave 'em wet like they soakin in some Suave When you step out on the ave (ave), make sure they wanna see ya (Wanna see ya) cause bein trill is an onomatopoeia Be about it like a G, a hater wanna catch ya slippin (slippin) Tried to be a Jordan, but settle for a Pippen Playa I ain't even trippin (trippin), but I don't really care Because my pistol's in yo' face so put yo' hands in the air [Chorus] [T.I.] In '96, I'm ridin with a pistol grip banana clip From Simpson Road to Adamsville, I'm reppin this Atlanta shit Nigga tryna handle us, let's see can they handle this A hunnid rounds at 'em, that N-O Louisiana shit Drinkin on that Hennessey, blowin on that cannabis AmeriKKKa's nightmare, trap nigga fantasy Record full of felonies, searchin for a better me But choppers go off in my hood like Iraq, Cuba, Tel Aviv Shoot a nigga, let 'em bleed... fuck 'em shawty Sucka nigga I'll never be, don't give a fuck about it Quick to run up on that Audi, make him get the fuck up out it Nigga better be about it, he deserve it, he allow it What's a coward to a kamikaze? He ain't robbin Man this predator and prey/pray, the Lord nature where I stay I catch you slippin with that K, ain't no illusion, no confusion Betta come up off that cake nigga and all that jewelery or you snoozin! [Chorus] [Killer Mike] Wa da dang! Wa da da da da dang! Listen to my Kimber 45 go BANG! Bang! BANG! Grind Time rap gang We the readers of the books and the leaders of the crooks Predators, we eyeballin all of y'all lames Let me fall off, I'm takin all of y'all chains All of y'all watches and all of y'all cars Well who he talkin to? All of y'all stars! All of y'all rappers and producers and such No homo promo homie, you might get yo' ass touched~! Like Def Jam circa '83 you get +RUSH'ed+ If you rollin with some winners then you rollin with US! I know some dumb country niggaz but them niggaz ain't we Know they dress and look the part but them niggaz ain't G I don't make dance music, this is R.A.P. Opposite, of that sucka shit they play on TV [Chorus]