Текст пісні
Yeah, uh, yeah, uh
Aw man, these niggas ain't ready for this shit, B
Not at all
Ruger!
Top Gunnaz, Top, Top Gunnaz
Top Gunnaz, Top, Top Gunnaz
Dipset, ha
They just turned my mic up, can you hear me now? (Can you hear me?)
Yeah, I just got my jewelry cleaned, can you
See me now? (Can y'all fuck niggas see me?)
Good, yeah
Y'all niggas better get ready (Get ready)
For an early grave, that is
Yeah, yeah, uh
I'm living by the mafia rules like Gotti would
I go broke, do a sex tape with Meagan Good
And sell it to Hollywood
Competition, they all die
Nigga, you the fall guy
Baby, I'm the big potato, he's the small fry
Got money, I ain't gotta front on you
I let you keep your chain, remember, I got one on you
That's your crew? They ain't tough, they gon' run on you
I need a guinea pig, let me test my gun on you
See, I can show you where to cop the white and get the tan
You getting money, don't forget your man
You flood the bezel, don't forget the band
The rappers wrestle, then I'm Vince McMahon
My little homie just got initiated
And he gotta eat something just to show me he ready
And motherfucker, you looking like spaghetti
I'm perfect timing with the diamonds, so you know you gotta VVS me
I'm out of this world, girl, you can't GPS me
Get ready, my nigga, get ready
I told you that I'm coming for the fetti
So nigga, get ready
Jason, Michael Myers, Freddy
Fuck them, I'm more scary
So nigga, get ready
Fully loaded and I'm rolling and
I'm focused, but you noticed this
Get ready, nigga, nigga, get ready
Get ready, nigga, nigga, get ready
Look in my closet, I'm gun crazy
You need that piff? I got quarters for
A buck and the halves is one-eighty
Ounce is three-sixty and the pound fifty-five
I ain't worried 'bout rap money, niggas gon' give me mine
Reminiscing way back on the old times
The block was a gold mine, now it's all flooded with po-nine
I walk in the precinct, briefcase full of bucks
And tell the lieutenant, "Make sure the chief get his cut"
Fuck, it was either hip-hop or life is big
I was running through 50 house when it was Tyson's crib
Mike and Robert giving, sniffing in the kitchen
Bentley, new edition, that's the Johnny Gill car
Yeah, Killa Cam got me popping, got a Rocky watch
Made a hundred grand off Oxycontin
Quarter mill off the diesel and the purp
Man, I don't wanna talk, fam, I just wanna see you in the dirt
Get ready!
Get ready, my nigga, get ready
I told you that I'm coming for the fetti
So nigga, get ready
Jason, Michael Myers, Freddy
Fuck them, I'm more scary
So nigga, get ready
Fully loaded and I'm rolling and
I'm focused, but you noticed this
Get ready, nigga, nigga, get ready
Get ready, nigga, nigga, get ready
You need me in your life, yeah, you need me in your life
What would the gangster do? I stopped breathing on the mic
How would the hustlers feel? I stopped speaking 'bout the white
Probably stop selling hard and get regular jobs
Make history, make a lot of money, nigga, won't I?
Make this gangster shit look real good, don't I?
I'm the reason you ain't got no respect for these city cops
The reason you put a little pep in your diddy bop
Ask your CEO and the label that hired you
You came in the game after Ruger, I inspired you
And if you say that ain't the truth, you lying
I helped you talk flyer
You ain't know about that 9/11 drop
Because of me, you a Porsche driver
I helped you love rap, so where the love at?
Every day, these niggas criticize me
But tell me, what would the game be without me?
Get ready!