F.S.U.

[Verse 1] Shit is real and any day could be your last, son it's shiest In this land of no return, the gangs emerge from the night Cops lurk as I shoot the dice, I shake the Jake and hit geist Low in the lights, rush your base, for the base in the heist Caught the come up of your onion, sold it double your price Spark the sour out in Brower, stashed the hash in the heights You know what it's like Chinese water torture for your daughter For the chicken, you was short of best to Western Union money orders Or this Smith and Wesson trigger pressing make you run your quarters Coroner reports and Newport's on these black corners Some sort of support for the sport of these black goners Imported a pound from Portland, pour the Taylor port like tap water The reef addicts, reputation to reap havoc The streets had us, instigated to keep ratchets Bud on the block, run in the spot, dutch lit up Another one with some locks, don't fuck with the cops, we fuck shit up [Hook x3] Fuck shit up, fuck shit up El Ragga got the squad in here to fuck shit up [Verse 2] This is for my niggas off a bid, trying to come up off an ounce of piff Two beans short, getting change off of counterfeits Catch a tourist slipping in the city, get up out of it Back to the trap, half a rack worth of ganja zipped Dope sesh' with the sess possessed by d'evils To fuck bitches, cut class, and smoke mad diesel Never fessed up to cunt, or confessed in cathedrals But I been on the block, buddah blessed with the people Mobbing in your motherfucking function Hopping out the dollar cab on junction When I'm off the malt liquor, I want to rob a nigga Or better yet I'll get him for assumption It's a good year when queers get spared like Michellin When uticas yute shoot, poof, get your ass back to Michigan [Hook x5]