[Verse 1: King T]
Where I'm livin', they twistin' big Benz's and excursions
I reminisce the days right before I start servin'
2-11's come to mind, grab the nine, good to go
Finna run-up in the sto', everybody, hit the floor!
Palms on the ground, face down, don't make a sound
Tellin' you now, any sudden moves, I'm dumpin' off rounds
More sales on the register, popped it like a charm
Bitch, give up the grip, don't even trip the store alarm
Empty each and every money slide quick as possible
One time come, before I'm done, you a hostage, ho!
You moving too slow, my crime is on parole
And I ain't tryin' to go, so, everybody, break your billfolds
Lift up the tray and get the Franklins and grants
I want pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters and food stamps
We 'vance out the sto', smashed in the Ford
All they know, it was three n***as and one had a 'fro
Liq Hittaz!

[Interlude: King T, Young Maylay & Man]
Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! (Oh, my lord!)
It was nothin', I told you it was gonna be easy, we ain't have to smoke nobody!
Ooh, ay, n***a, let's go over to that stupid bitch house, n***a, and divide that- shit, what's that bitch name, homie?
I know that trick, [?]
That bitch got some titties like- ha-ha! It's [?]
Fuck that, n***a (Yeah!)
I'ma get my [?] sucked, fuck this, homie!
Open the bag (Yo, open the bag, open the bag!)
Open the bag, thinkin' about that money, boy! (Shit, I don't know about that, like, fuck [?])
Hoo, shit! (Woo!)
Fat faces, baby! (That's some [?])
Look, fat faces, baby
Man, call that bitch and tell that bitch [?], right now, homie, on me
Bitch, it's the [?]
[?]
[Verse 2: King T]
You need to keep your business to yourself, I find out who got the keys
I'ma creep up behind ya house and put me down a robbery (Lay down!)
So, watch ya mouth clown, we invadin' homes
Next day, come around and blow tree like Nathan Rome
(You know, they just got me for some cheese) No shit!
('bout a hundred and fifty G's) Oh wee, cold twist!
Wasn't even all that, but still a cool grip
Each amount vary every time a fool slip
We gon' get him, back to back, like a rerun
That n***a that lick a whole pack of suckers when I see some
The bag snatcher, limit your chatter
For you had me going backwards, 'cause I'm really after rappers
Peepin' out them big mansions in Calabasas (Oh my God!)
Ballin', flossin' and they gave them the state addresses
They ain't down, they can't hang with us
Ski mask to straight face, n***a, ante up
The Liq Hittaz!

[Outro]
Aw, shit! Now, a word from our sponsors
Just because you're rollin' now
Don't mean that you can't fuck around and
Get yourself killed, 'cause these n***as hate
To see you ball, and that's real