[Blu]
Crip
South Central rep
Script me strip when the clip go click
Blood and water don't mix
Stove grip thick and it makes
Stove whip lit with the grits is the hit fix
Clocks got to tick
Itch, stop, pop a vein if you come again
Rich, dot, Glock shot aim and it don't stop
Fiends can't keep me off the stove top
So rock, stow Glock
Police can't keep me off their soapbox
So box, block a shot, pop, sock a n***a out
Pops never told me how to knock a n***a out
Pull a trigger out, shoot a finger off
Tryna block my shot, .45 Glock pop pop
'Til it's hot, popo feel the heat
Popo feel the shot, popo hit the floor
Popo ain't make it out
Feel my folks gone, we gon' pour it out
'Fore the devil's gone
We gon' go about our own business
Like I own my own business
So I'm kicking your ass out
Like you nevеr should have opened up your mouth
Scrеam and shout "time is up, time is out"
Rhyme is 'bout taking heat off
Taking heads out
If you take the beat off
Who be taking reds out?
Not you, not me
Not dude who got one, got two, got three
Drive-bys, bye-byes, everybody bleed
.45 on my side, may I squeeze
Pray I breathe another breath tomorrow morn
My soul was torn, born, retorn, remixed, and reborn
The spaceship that we on
The ageless art form formed
The basement, backyard forums we was raw
Raw, R-A-W, trouble you, come for you
Scared we make fun of you, pull a gun on you
Cock that bitch
Fuck around and just pop that shit
[Cashus King]

[Self Jupiter]
People!
I put a fully automatic caliper pistol in your peephole
Get you dick beaters off me motherfuckers
In this game ain’t no 'be cool'
Ain’t no prequel sequel igloo’s
I’m the one you need to watch
Sneak previews
I feed these ungrateful lethals
In the midst of all these toxic lolli-popsicle pickle pupils
To all my peeple-weeples individuals see-through cerebrals
Stay the fuck off my obstacle equal impossible
To out maneuver the apostle colossal daredevil
I’ll be like Evel Knievel through your waffle
On the mic I’m awfully unlawful
I'm a fat man’s hands vs. vaudeville vs. Hamburger Hill
But my rap journal contains shrapnel
Hey everybody I'm the rapping Suge Knight
The difference between him and me
Is the person that knocks me out
Won't be able to tie his shoes right
The very concept of tying a bow
Would be as complex as string theory
But y'all dont hear me
But let me reiterate
If I was in the Wu-Tang Clan
Somebody would've had to find my killer tape
Dont let the 40s and blunts
Get you loaded in trunks
At the end of the day
Somebody might put an end to your day
Or put you on the metro rail facing the wrong way
Pretty much a pack of Juicy Fruits
Will last you about fifty months
Your entire mouth would slump
They be calling you old man
Holding an old E can
For the whole weekend