Fatal:

Get paid, never caught in a rage, you get sprayed, prayed over and laid down, pump with the pound... How that sound?.. death before dishonor, pretty much, the studio sound with the city touch... I put dimes on you, committ crimes on you, when I get the drop, ya got my shines on you... And deadly I, so I'm a never get shot, and this shit so hot, watch it resserec Pac... I got more weight then some niggas out of state, and I just hate when fake jokers slow jake, on my dick, chillin' with the bitch I ate, traded my .38 for a fresh blake... it's a shotty thang, rollin' yo hood, with the money bang, with the Outlaw Thugs, where hotties hang... I know you know, give it son, slow yo roll, I do 'em slow, they gone be the next funeral...

Chours

Fatal:

Thugged out Tha Don, Hussan Saddam, it's all about the Bengies, why get friendly?.. it's in me, Nasty New, more the fairy, blast ya crew, more to bury nigga what... the dog in this, dog in this, what's the prob, my Outlaw Thugs on a mission to robb... Everyday, problems gettin' solved kinda of critical, it's pitiful, all this shit political... You wanna be a Player?; let me show you how, you wanna be a Thug?; change ya style, blow!.. Walk past ya ass with the hostage city this, when he blast I'll laugh like oh my God, did he miss... cause yall can't fold cold, on our Bizz, get money on small shit, can't talk to who I ball with... it's so simple, we can kick it, but gettin' no info, coincidently you drop and fall simple...

Chours

Fatal:

Wow and come, bring it like Vietshun, bomb on ya face, soldiers you know the time... shine on you like a rollie, you can't hold me, the number one parole catchin' hits like a goalie... jump from Jerz, while New York get money in a E-320, with a down to die honey... me fall off, naw, never in a million years, hold ya tears put ya hands on the cieling... cross you over, boss, and toss you off course, bow down you lost, jockin' Fatal tryin' to floss... do ya real dirt, with players be tryin' to serve, throw yo skirts up in the air and give it up for Jerz... you got Moet, you better sip it for the rowdy niggas, hit ya and hit ya with some shit ya peoples can't even picture... a Thug in a club with a calaber slug, I know you hate to throw it up, but do it out of your love...

Chours