Killa, it’s The Off-SeasonLet’s keep it tall, y’all ain’t fuckin’ with my manAnd don’t check your watch, you know the timeCole World, Killa Cam’, niggas is fuckin’ finished (Yeah)This shit too easy for me nowNigga, Cole been goin’ plat’ since back when CDs was aroundWhat you sold, I tripled that, I can’t believe these fuckin’ clownsLook how everybody clappin’ when your thirty-song album do a measly hundred thou’If I’m bettin’ on myself, then I’ll completely double downIf you hated on a nigga, please don’t greet me with a poundI be stayin’ out the way, but if the beef do come aroundCould put a M right on your head, you Luigi brother nowTrace my steps all in this game, you could see we cover groundBack and forth from NC to New York when Jeezy had the crownVivid memories, niggas start to squeeze, we duckin’ downSo many shells left on the ground, it make the Easter Bunny proudI get up, dust my clothes off, sleep is the cousin of deathNo plans to doze off, the streets, it don’t come with a refI never sold soft, just creeped where the hustlers creptAnd got they O’s off, you reach, niggas uppin’ like StephTo blow your nose off, gesundheit, and then resume flightAs if it never happened, shit we witnessed full of so much sicknessAngels sheddin’ tears in Heaven, word to Eric ClaptonOff this clever rapping, bitch, my pockets gon’ forever fattenThey gon’ forever fattenSee, we tried to tell niggasThey act like they don’t even fuckin’ speak EnglishBitch, my pen to the paper’s lethalI’m sendin’ ’em straight to meet theThe nigga that made them peep the reaperCreepin’ on ya, the scent of failure reekin’ on ya
Check your genitalia, pussy-niggas bleedin’ on yourselfFuckin’ with Cole is bold, but it’s impedin’ on your healthAll yo’ niggas eatin’ off your wealthAll my niggas feedin’ all they selves, and it feels swellKrispy Kreme dreams, sometime my dawgs wanna kill twelve (Uh)‘Cause they steady harassin’We seen dilemmas like Nelly and Kelly that end in the deadliest fashionMy young niggas nutty, they blastin’Bullets be hummin’ like Cudi but one of yo’ hoodies Spaghetti-O splashin’All over the driveway, y’all talkin’ all sidewaysShots poppin’ off, y’all laid downCops chalkin’ off y’all legs now(Shit) God watchin’, “Hey, Yahweh”My niggas looked up to the sky like we sendin’ it y’all way (Y’all way)We sendin’ it y’all way (Y’all way)That’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ ’boutY’all see what the fuck goin’ on out here (Killa, Harlem)I-95 shit, Carolina, 2-6, stand up, niggaPut your hood upPut your hood upPut your hood upPut your hood upPut your clique upPut your clique upPut your clique upPut your clique upRepresent your shit, motherfuckerRepresent your shit, motherfuckerRepresent your clique, motherfuckerRepresent your clique, motherfuckerIf you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the clubIf you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club