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[feat. Rick Ross & Beanie Sigel] [Intro: Rick Ross] You know we got em 45s, machine guns, heavy artillery We got those grenades on your ass, nigga Boss. Black Wall Street I'm in that bulletproof Maybach nigga (Teflon Don) [Verse 1: Rick Ross] Nigga talking like a G but walking like a broad I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car Nigga I shatter lives, my music camouflage I court killers at the center of my synagogue Torch in hand, extortion to the Fortune 500 From the porches to the Porsches with the wides on it 'Fore you snitches bitch, you better put your lives on it Get you twisted by the [?] with them wires on it I get my money smoking spliffs like it's Friday I'm sitting sideways like I'm in my driveway My champagne kicks, my shit 3 wheels You niggas six feet, we gettin 3 meals [Hook:] They got jumped 45s, machine guns, and heavy artillery Songtexte [Verse 2: Game] Yeah I got 2 gun charges, 2 felonies, just got off probation Today motherfucker, won't budge for no charge Real nigga, I hold no grudge with no thugs Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaaren They ain't meant for you, move bitch, you hard of hearing? I speed off doing 90 with Tha Carter blaring Bust shots in the Cavalier like I ball with Baron Yeah I Blake Griff niggas, make stiff niggas Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre's only sick nigga Insane in the membrane like Soul Assassins 12 gauge stop a nigga heart like a bowl of Aspirin I hold automatics, let your man hold the casket Murder game cold as Aspen, body found in the trash bin First 48, they don't find me, case closed Like a rehabilitation spot in Bobby Brown nose Take em back to Boyz in da Hood when I pull the pump out Something like C-Murder on Worldstar when I dump out [Hook] [Verse 3: Beanie Siegel] Ain't nothing changed but them bullets in my clip I still pull it, still bully niggas on the strip Beef, I cook it fully with the fifth And I ain't got no pets, I put a bullet in ya bitch A nigga with a gun in his hand who won't bust it? Like a bitch with a dick in her hand who won't suck it This is the art of war, you niggas just drawing Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone Drive by or walk up on - I just stop, breathe, aim cock squeeze [?] on the Glock, infrared beam Put your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream [Hook] Aus Songtexte Mania