[Intro: Jadakiss & Styles P]
It's sad, it's pitiful this is what it's come to (Word)
You know? (Heh) fuck it (Fuck it)
Real n***a gon' surface (True)
Fuck n***as gon' drown (Word)
Ha-hah!

[Verse 1: Jadakiss & Styles P]
It's the hunger pains that make n***as hateful
That's why you can't brake bread with the ungrateful (Can't)
If he can't look in your eye then he can't (Face you)
Wait for him to try and he can't (Wait to)
I rather die out here, jail ain't the (Place to)
I had a nine to five (I sold base too)
I beat the shit out of n***as (I beat the case too)
And when I ate, I make sure everybody ate too (We all eatin')
Only God could judge us, all these n***as can do is (Rate you)
They probably (Underestimate you)
But still, fuck how he gon' feel (Fuck, you know the deal)
The last supper is a three course meal (Last Supper)
All I see is Gs (Sitting at the table)
Guns, weed and ki's (Sittin' at the table)
Money from the street (Money from the label)
Ridin' out to Pac (Like the n***a Fatal)
We ridin' out to B.I.G. (Like the n***a Gutta)
You ain't ridin' (Fuck you n***a, I ain’t stutter)
He ain't stutter, but the gun'll stutter
(Ratatat tat tat) Motherfucker
Little n***as respect Elvis
Slept with pretty bitches that got down like Griselda (You know!)
Blanco, Lex coupe, stashed in the console
Last supper, I let a hundred bricks on the arm go
What!
[Chorus: The Game]
Spaghetti dinners and ready n***as, Jesus is able
Look in the manger, nothin but thoroughbreds in my stable
Prophetic conversations, don’t let the devil touch ya
Nothing but Gs around the table for the Last Supper
Walkin' on water with baking soda to get my cake up
Breaking bread with forty thieves hoping God save us
Look and all I see is Gs sitting at the table (Double up)
L-L-Look and all I see is Gs sitting at the table

[Verse 2: The Game & Ar-16]
'Kiss, tell Sheek I gotta hustle like Russell
Burners right in your face (Never needed the muscle)
Sixteen in the Glock, extendos for the tussle
Sixteen at the cop, don’t let a motherfucker cuff you
L.A., you get shot down (New York, we gon cut you)
When the last time you've been to church?
N***a we don’t trust you
Like the Bears frontline (N***a we'll rush you)
Laughing over your body, we the ones you look up to
Father figures (We raise guns) pull all the triggers
(Babysitting them birds) We sonnin' all you n***as
When it's time to ride, we in that Cutlass smothered up
(We real gangstas) VH1 was just a cover up
WorldStar knock-out king (Tell 'em to knuckle up)
We ride for California, n***a so buckle up
We got a team full of killers when we huddle up
Dead bodies everywhere (Coroners bring the shuttle bus)
N***as gotta fuck with us (If not, we fuck you up)
Bitches can get it too, bus driver with the upper cut
(Kiss barrels) Pucker up (Ain't nobody scorching us)
Drama with the four of us (I'll make you n***as organed up)
Bad boys (Always come through with enough to puff)
Like them '95 rap n***as (Still roll a dutch)
We got grenades in our bags, Glock's Justin Tuck
(That beef automatic start) Gon' press your luck
[Chorus: The Game]
Spaghetti dinners and ready n***as, Jesus is able
Look in the manger, nothin but thoroughbreds in my stable
Prophetic conversations, don’t let the devil touch ya
Nothing but Gs around the table for the Last Supper
Walkin' on water with baking soda to get my cake up
Breaking bread with forty thieves hoping God save us
Look and all I see is Gs sitting at the table
L-L-Look and all I see is Gs sitting at the table