Lyrics:

Featuring Treach, Riddler]**lf**[2pac]**lf**now I''ve Got To Ask, On A Nigga''s Ass, Tell Me Will They Blast Me?**lf**i Think Of An Alias In Case These Crooked Bitches Ask Me**lf**now, It''s Gettin Crazy After Dark, These Narcs**lf**be Like Tryin To Shut Me Down But I''m Too Smart**lf**now Picture Me Scared Of The Penitentiary**lf**i''ve Been Movin These Things Since The Days Of Elementary**lf**now Tell Me What You Need When You See Me**lf**i''m Stackin G''s, Buyin All The Things On Tv, Believe Me**lf**i Got Some Killas On My Payroll, And They Know**lf**when It''s Time To Handle Business, Nigga Lay Low**lf**although I''m Young, I''m Still Comin Up**lf**i''m Gettin Paid, Pullin Raises On Niggas When They Runnin Up**lf**the First To Pull A Strap When There''s Drama**lf**busta, You Ain''t Heard?**lf**i''ve Been Slicin Motherfuckerss Since I Lost My Momma**lf**there Ain''t A Cop That Can Stop Me**lf**my Posse Is Cocked, G, And They Don''t Quit Until They Drop Me**lf**i''m Loyal To The Game**lf***chorus***lf**[treach]**lf**without No Doubt I Ain''t No Slouch And It Ain''t Time To Back Down**lf**so I Jumps In And Try To Stop-A And Watch-A**lf**slap You Cock-Eyed Like Popeye Fucks Spinach**lf**forgotten More Shit Than Most Crews Ever Know, Or Ever Knew**lf**was Born With 7 Flows And Only Heaven Knew**lf**for Beat The Boot Sex, The News Breaks, The You Shakes**lf**worse, They Heard We Got More Nerve Than A 2-Fake**lf**yoo-Hoo To You Crew And You Too So You Knew**lf**i''m From Jersey And I''m A Teen So Your Block More Than You Do**lf**whose The New Crew?**lf**show Me Your Neck Brotha, And Here''s Another**lf**smack Your Mother''s Mamma''s Mother**lf**in The First Mob Of All Those Other Crack Lovers**lf**back Was Bitch-Ass, Trick Ass, Cluk-Clow-Cluk-Clow**lf**how Ya Like Me Then, How Ya Like Me, Hey-Ho, How Ya Like Me Now?**lf**ow, Pow, Hurt, Don''t It? Bow, Bow, Don''t Run Up On It**lf**the Same Thing Minus ''p'' Hangin Possies Like An Exponent**lf**oh Yes, Rock In Slums, Ya Gots To Run It**lf**it Makes No Sense To Smell Like Shit**lf**if Old Ass George Could Be Washing-Tons**lf***chorus***lf**[riddler]**lf**now I Be Loyal To My Niggas On The Blocks, Just Buckin The Shots**lf**and Packin The Glocks**lf**and Dodgin The Cops, And Takin Over Niggas Spots**lf**poppin After Poppin The Fools Be Droppin, The Hoes Be Hoppin**lf**on My Thing Cause It Hangs Like The Nets From Above The Rim**lf**you Lookin Grim, Is It Me Or Him Or Him**lf**or Be With Me, We Be Together**lf**so What''s Up? We Can Do Whatever**lf**cause Real Niggas Stick Together**lf**till They Make It Up To Heaven**lf**through The Stress, Through The Hell, Through The 1-8-7**lf**the Shorter The Nigga, The Bigga The Trigga**lf**the Deeper They Dig The Ditch-A**lf**the Naughty The Treach**lf**then Through To The Pac I Brings The Glock I Wets Up**lf**you Fuckin Body, Im Like, Oh My Gody**lf**did I Really Shoot Him? Yo I Shot Him**lf**so Got Him, Now I Puts The Crime Behind Me**lf**and Finds Me, A Place To Lays My Head Low**lf**i Lives Doin My Rap, But I Dies For My Hood Row**lf**so All You Fuckin Fools Better Recognize, And Know My Fuckin Name**lf**i Be Riddler To My Niggas And Im Loyal To The Game**lf**[chorus