some yall niggaz iz ghost fake cuz i can see right thru you to the nigga waitin for me behind you/ and you wonder why niggaz dont sign you/im on da block from 8-8 makin cake to make a mixtape/im 6'4 in a '64 on da westcoast wit da best rolled roach/look, im from the city where you die for givin da wrong eye or fags die for wearin blue in they tie dye/im high on days dat only end in y/every shot yall threw at me made a miss n u jus ask y? like jadakiss/all dem C'z be talkin ima give 3 hollow 3's to they knees n have em crip walkin 4 lyfe/if u got weed you betta burn it, n if u dont u betta turn it cuz roun here money u gotta earn it/n u cant spend 3 dollars if u have 1, so getta a gun n have fun robbin hoodz/they call me "pistol pete beanie sigel cuz i handle the "GUNZ" and the "ROC"/all i need iz a jar, bakin soda, n a car n oven i can make nuthin into sumthin/if i dont get da car, f**k it feenz aint gotta go far, if my block lock we jus move down a block n move up another spot on da hustlin chart/i can see you niggaz shakin like you ate a sweet tart sweet hart.

u raw dawg you on da squad