[Produced by Mike WiLL Made It]
[Pre-Intro: Skit]
Sentence should now-now be pronounced
I'll ask that you stand for sentence, please
Mr. ***, it is the sentence of the court
That your custody be committed to the Department of Corrections
For confinement of the *** state prisons
Without possibility of parole for the remainder of your life
You may be seated
[Intro: Rick Ross & Tracy T]
War ready
You got shooters, I got shooters
We got money
Let’s do what them other n***as can’t do though
Mastermind, uh, uh
N***a got a thousand guns, n***a (War, Dade County)
And if money is power, n***a
I got millions of power, n***a, huh (Hahahaha, Miami shit)
Fuck with me n***a, huh? (War, war, war)
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Seventeen, I was chargin' n***as seventeen
Ridin' clean, youngest n***a in the Medellín
Bomber green in that thang, in the middle lane
Did some thangs for my n***as which I can't explain
Versace slippers, twenty chains, bitch I'm Dana Dane
Put a patch over your eye, fuck with my petty change
Fuck what you heard, for that bird, I'm a dirty n***a
Laid to rest by the one you thought was workin' with ya
War ready, the game just wanna take my life
War ready, pussy boy, we all could die tonight
War ready, fast cash above the law
War ready, gas masks when them choppers talk
[Chorus: Tracy T]
Killers on the front line when ya war ready, huh
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready, huh
Just another mama cryin' when ya war ready, huh
Just another homicide cause we war ready, huh
Killers on the front line when ya war ready, huh
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready, huh
Just another mama cryin' cause we war ready, huh
Just another homicide when you're war ready, war, war, war
[Interlude: Jeezy]
A coward dies a thousand deaths, a real n***a dies but one
21 gun salute out of the top of your drop-top coupe
I know a lot of n***as gon' hate to see this
Yeah, I wish Shake could see this
I'll never fall for what I stand for
This here for Nando
We could live today Blood and die tonight cuz, war ready
[Verse 2: Jeezy]
Box Chevy hit the block, run the whole fifty shots
You just poppin' 'til you know you can't pop 'em no more
We done came through the block in so many colored drops
And these motherfuckers think you can't drop 'em no more
War ready, a n***a put some change on your head
Damn right, fuck around, clear my safe out
I got a few digi' scales and a couple Denzels
Yeah, you motherfuckin' right this a safe house
Give me the K and a shovel, I'll bury that n***a
Be his pallbearer so I can carry that n***a
What you gon' hit him with, the Glock or the chop?
Look, I wouldn't give a fuck if they were sharin' that n***a
You motherfuckers out here
Always talkin' 'bout what another motherfucker said
Yeah, I got that FNH with that motherfuckin' Fendi holster
I ain't out here to motherfuckin' play
Why these fuck n***as always cryin' 'bout somethin'?
Either you livin' like a ho or you dyin' 'bout somethin'
Try to let that Rollie breathe but it's hidin' up my sleeve
Like that motherfucker timid or shy about somethin'
Tomorrow ain't promised, n***a roll up that weed
Gotta stay strapped to live the life I lead
"Snow, you could start your own alphabet with all them Gs
Open up a hundred doors with all them kis"
Yeah, we live for them coupes but we dyin' by the gun
Missed his court date, now my n***a on the run
Big shit poppin' and it's sparklin' like a lighter
Shit bag, leave a grown n***a in a diaper
Hangin' out the Rolls, on your mark, get set
Let it go, better hold that bitch steady
When adrenaline get to rushin' and them drums get to bussin'
Yeah, I hope you pussy n***as war ready
[Chorus: Tracy T]
Killers on the front line when ya war ready
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready
Just another mama cryin' when ya war ready
Just another homicide cause we war ready
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Follow in my footstep, I was born to die a soldier
N***a couldn't walk a mile, found him naked in his Rover
Shout out to the Vice Lords, shout out to my Blood n***a
Shout out to them GDs, where that Crip love, n***a?
Shout out to them dope boys, owe it to the plug, n***a
I could die a thousand times, will never die a fuck n***a
Shoutout to my city, too, my clip hold a 62
Ridin' down on 61st, rest in peace to Fluty Coupe
Heroin and quinine, cut that bitch a thousand times
Phone call, said he need a brick
I text him back, "Come stand in line"
You went out of town so I had to whack your bitch
Never came back, pussy boy, go die a bitch
[Chorus: Tracy T & Rick Ross]
Killas on front line when ya war ready (War ready)
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready
If you ain't ready to die about it
Just another mama cryin' when ya war ready
Don't even mention it to a n***a like me, baby
Just another homicide cause we war ready
I went from nothing, n***a, to sixty million, n***a
Walking around in my motherfuckin' Belaire robe, n***a
Killers on the front line when ya war ready
In Evander Holyfield's estate, n***a, twenty-five million, n***a
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready
Six million in marble
Just another mama cryin' cause we war ready
Two million in drapes, another 5 in chandeliers
Just another homicide when ya war ready, war, war, war
Huh, 130 acres, n***a, huh
[Outro: Rick Ross]
That's just one of the many properties, n***a
War ready, and I'm down to die 'bout that
We gon' ride 'bout that
So you know we ready to slide 'bout that
Cut that check, n***a, what ya money like, huh?
It's hard to go to war with seventy million, n***a, huh?
Read the obituary, n***a
Print that motherfucker in Italian, huh?
What's a hassa? What's a hassa?
That's you, haha
I'm not gon' kill you though, haha
I'm not gon' kill you though, haha
Hey Black, kill this motherfucker
