[Intro: Memphis Bleek]
Geah
What?
Memph Bleek
Duro
We live
Thugged out
Marcy
Smoked out
Yeah
[?] [?]
Uh

[Verse 1: Memphis Bleek]
Yo, yo
I'm on now
Therefore your ready rock
Compare to this fishscale baggin' rocks
Now give me Bill Gates money
A little strait money
Big or small faces its been in all places
I was schooled by them older guys
They showed me how to drive these blow weed
Chop deuces and hold rugers
Have a n***a rocked up then knocked up
Plenty y'all wit his chest out gettin' stocked up
We trade war stories back on them streets
When we played the mess hall
N***as dead 'em on his eats
I'm a foul little n***a, wild little n***a
Dedicated to these streets a pump valve, lil n***a
You hear about my whereabouts?
Bitches I don't care about
Money, I'm a man about
Drama, I'm a air it out
N***as hate Bleek 'cause I live right?
You'll love to see me broke frontin', wit no chips right?
[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type shit? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type shit? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit? (what)

[Verse 2: Memphis Bleek]
But this Bleek life my young n***as I tell ya
I went from a failure, holdin' paraphernalia
Weight scales, twelve-twelves, dimes and fishscale
Cooked up and bagged up
My life was fucked up, but I looked at it this way
If I don't make it this way, then I'm a do it this way
Blaze my heat, while I'm after them nickels
Fuck six I chase nine fucken zeros
Digits I got four of them, want five more of them
Bitches went on tour wit 'em
Flash bring more of 'em
I fuck 'em, never call 'em, my dough must have spoiled 'em
N***a blew raw wit them but now I'm ignoring them
This street life kept Bleek tight with heat right
On the ten-speed herbed up, n***a word up
You saw me, but if not your man did
I know I pull gats on y'all for crack shit
Yeah uh-huh
[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type shit? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type shit? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit? (what)

[Verse 3: Memphis Bleek]
My n***as roll dice in the back park
We sip Bacardi dark wit sprite all night
Till the sky get bruised or thug n***a lose
Pull out two-two's only catch two, hundred
Half the crowd skated with which you wanted
This n***a got shaky and panic when you fronted
When he saw the black kron
I thought the n***a wore a thong
The way he froze his arm
Dukes said "it's on"
He stripped to his drawers when he heard one raw
Took off half ass when the n***a spit more
And we all spit game, you n***as heard pre-game
By Sauce, motherfucker, for you lame motherfuckers
I fall, I get back
To test my worth, I tell heads to hit that, it's raw? get rid of that
My workers take thirty off a bundle
Dodging the bikers and the D's when they rush the jungle
So we stash in the fences, sit low on the benches
Keep a small gun in case it's on in the trenches
Yo
[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type shit? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear some more thugged out shit? (what)
Who wanna hear that get smoked out shit? (geah)
Who want to hear some real live type shit? (huh)
Who want it wit that oh, chest out shit? (what)

[Outro: Memphis Bleek]
We live
For the thug n***as, Marcy, what?
We out