| Intro/chorus: rock |
| Iz you wit me. Yo throw your hands in the air! |
| All my thugs and soldiers, fuck it even players |
| Whether you hate us or you show us love |
| No matter what you do money, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Iz you wit me. Yo throw your hands in the air! |
| All my thugs and soldiers, fuck it even players |
| Crooks, willies, pimps, all my sons |
| No matter what you do baby, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Verse one: method |
| Yo, light another, and elevate on this one my brother |
| Respect mine like my baby mother |
| I shine when it rain, the sky’s cryin for all the black youth |
| That’s dyin, I heard he went out clutchin his iron |
| And in the mist the slugs flyin, one burst |
| He kissed the dirt, not knowin he was touched at first |
| Or badly hurt, it’s all science, another nigga merked |
| Kid snatched his purse and his work, left nuttin |
| But the shells on the turf, the situation’s worse |
| A lot of bitch ass niggas is comin out they skirts |
| Cause it’s real, not everyone can rhyme and get a deal |
| Not everyone can shine and make a meal |
| So johnny carry nine in the steel, one in the head |
| For all them fuckheads, leave that ass for dead nuff said |
| Don’t be mistaken, or mislead, it’s all peace |
| But when my baby’s gotta get fed, I’m all teeth |
| Bitin down on the bullet now, bloodshed |
| I cop my herb from a knotty dread, and live this life |
| On the edge nigga. One time for your fuckin-ass mind |
| Cause-o, can you deal? |
| Chorus: rock |
| Wu-tang are you wit me, well throw your hands in the air! |
| All my soldiers, thugs, fuck it even players |
| Heads on lockdown and those on the run |
| No matter what you do money, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Verse two: ruck |
| Aiyyo peep the stamina, of the main brain splattera |
| In a matter of seconds I’m disrespectin your character |
| What’s the matter ya niggas ain’t ready for the massacre |
| I’ll be slappin y’all niggas in the face with the calibre |
| You like the voice baby? Ruck is the choice lately |
| Slap a hoe in the grapple hold just like royce gracie |
| My boys pay me no mind, for the shit I say lately |
| Then deep down in they heart, they think that nigga ruck is crazy |
| Maybe, y’all niggas should just chill before I fuck you up |
| I can snuff a duck nigga in the face with the uppercut |
| What the fuck? Y’all niggas do it the mic ruin |
| Your life by screwin, your wife now cruisin |
| Affect with the motherfuckin grimy style |
| Meth-tical, heltah skeltah for the ninety-now |
| Remind me how, the way it used to be, yo you used to be |
| Better than you is on the mic, but now you losing me |
| Chorus: rock |
| So iz you wit me? Well throw your hands in the air! |
| All my soldiers, thugs, fuck it even players |
| Whether you rap for a living or sell drugs for funds |
| No matter what you do, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Verse three: rock |
| Son I used to be a good boy, fat cheeks, little cute kid |
| Potentially rebellious yet a straight a student |
| I listened to my elders til I found out they was stupid |
| What they told me had me broke and bummy, time for some new shit |
| Now, I hold mo' concealed heat than acapulco |
| Ricans in bushwick call me rocko, el mano loco |
| Got a fo'-fo' to make thugs sing like k-ci and jojo |
| Packin ever since mamma rock said gunz was a no-no |
| We don’t need those doe, street cats don’t need gats |
| Six-five, from the nba, many niggas be that |
| So try me, like mutumbo you can’t get shit by me |
| Send you to E. Are. Son with broke ankles like allen ivey. Hehe |
| Hold that thought for a minute |
| And watch your shorty before I run up in it I admit it |
| I’m like sprite, image got you shaken, thinkin I’m jamaican |
| But it’s thirst that’ll get your jewelry and dough taken |
| Fuck batman and robin, I’m robbin with a bat man |
| Chase niggas like chevy for makin wack jams |
| Hit hard as a dick after a lapdance, ask any sean price |
| In alcatraz fan, they’ll tell you watch the jabbin |
| Chorus: rock |
| So iz you wit me? Well throw your hands in the air! |
| All my soldiers, thugs, fuck it even players |
| Gods, earths, and cons, crips and bloods |
| No matter what you do money, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Iz you wit me? Well throw your hands in the air! |
| All my soldiers, thugs, fuck it even players |
| M. F. C., killa beez and my outlaw thugs |
| Armaggedeon soon come, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Stack your gunz 'n onez, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Heltah skeltah come soon, be prepared motherfucker |
| Stack your gunz 'n onez, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Cause ain’t nobody safe motherfucker |
| Stack your gunz 'n onez, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Marvelous, armaggedeon, heltah skeltah |
| Stack your gunz 'n onez, stack your gunz 'n onez |
| Same shit |