Lyrics:

A-woo!
(Statik Selektah)
Wolves out, baby (sick 'em)
My barrel lean like Thorazine (huh)
Dream like Reverend King, cream like Medellín (aww)
Cartel sparked well, y'all in the mezzanine
Swimmin' at the shot ball, shot bars, guillotine
A hundred on the dart boards, dark on the big machine
Blowin' at your entourage, whole squad wolverines (aww)
Camouflage dons, spits hella steam, prophesize, we monopolize
Gotta get the green
Backs in my nap sack, roll up a swisher sweet, light a spliff (uh, uh)
Life's a bitch, freakin' off with the team (aww)
All the shit I've seen, probably should be dead now
Fuck the zombies, smoke the bong, it's weed to the head now
It's the semi-auto blowin' through your audio
My niggas press you and leave you in the poorest mode (no)
Known movements, this reality music, the gun law is; if you got one, you better use it
Listen, A and B convos, C your way out before D jump over E
And F you up like a G so play silly, feel a nine millli' (aww)
Actin' like you 'bout this life beef for really (come on)
Face fightin', wanna steal, y'all niggas kill me
Deer Gang, 215, it's Gucci Philly (aww), it's Louis Loaf with the smoke that beats that (ah)
Camouflage dons, Zombies, Statik Selekt'
If you send shots, we blowin' off limbs
No sublimes (no), don't get it twisted, we not them (uh-uh)
It's a new wave, N-W-A, take it how you want it, and it's all I got to say (come on, nah)
The fame ain't changed Meech, I still don't fuck with you, niggas
I still be on the streets, I still scream fuck religion (woo)
I ain't scared of beef, got beef get put on a skillet (prime)
You bigots are non-existent so fuck all my competition, hold up
Hoes haze, no competition, your mortal vision's sacrilegious spittinn' vivid pictures
Smokin' with the same niggas Montana flow
Whiter than the white cops that shot the kid on my block
I'm from a place where we want it, we take it
Gold teeth, two foes
Trapping in the basement
Two freaks, one Meech, it's threesomes in the AM
Take a whiff (whiff), pure shit, four blunts in one bitch (yeah)
Bodies in the basement
Homicide cases
Prophesize about multiplying pot like we makers
Hater, you ain't on like the Lakers
I know I'm wrong but we don't go back to slave ships (yeah, yeah)
Smif-N-Wesson, one bullet
Your pick, third leg, I be puttin' it in (your bitch)
Rhyme like, 'Life After Death' had a fourth disk
Rhyme like, 'All Eyez On Me' times four shit
Park place, sheet pins, smoking at the ball game
Scott bucks up top only when the Knicks play
Smif-N-Wesson 500, O.G., and a switch blade
Before you cross a dead motherfucker, look both ways
Motherfucker, look both ways (both ways)
Motherfucker, look both ways
Camouflage dons, camouf-, camouflage dons