Ay it's time to lift off man, I got Polo G in here Gang Justin Credible's freestyle series He brought the swag with him too Real boss man Chains is heavy, wrist is heavy You already know Ay man let's go crazy, this is part 3 of the trilogy tonight On gang Polo G, Chi-Towns in the building We are live in Los Angeles, California Let's take off on these motherfuckers man Pelle Pelle wheat Timbs like I'm straight out of Yonkers I see nothin' but dead faces when I'm facin' my ganja Bitch, you on the Northside, that's why they say I'm a monster No old killer, Taliban, I used to hang with Osama All I hang with us crooks, and they play with them choppers If he a lame like Dillon Brooks, I take him straight off the roster Sweet ass nigga, how I can tell the way of his posture Lil' bro swingin' the stick, it's like he tryna break a piñata Nigga talkin' 'bout extortion, I won't pay him a dollar Glock go "Baow", make his dread shake like he Flocka 'Fore a nigga play with me, better play with his momma Pull up over here, and next he on his way to the doctor Bitch, I'm strapped 'cause I'm from the 'Raq, city where we huntin' hats Fienin' for my old shit, cookin' up another batch Sprintin' to these millies, made a killin' like I'm runnin' track Foenem get to clappin' at your head like a jumpin' jack Know some killers livin' with no guilt, they tryna run it back Feelin' like I'm Wilt, 'cause if they blitz, I send a hunnid a back Niggas yellin' "Free smoke", they don't send enough to match Lotta of niggas cappers, you a rapper or another rat? Wait until I die, gon' hit them gates like "Where my brothers at?" Steppin' like I'm from a frat, lil' bro tryna tuck a mat Trophy room, come and stack, hallway a hunnid plaques Every day I'm thumbin' racks, no, I can't get a (Yeah) These people got the nerve to try to tell me that I lost it Standin' on my words and I never got exhausted Get punished when I purge, I like you better in a coffin Couldn't fight the urge to push my level to the bosses Bezel yellow imbursed, stones cold, Steve Austin Train a bad bitch to make her shut up when I'm talkin' They act like Brad Pitt, make 'em step into my office Let that MAC spit, tape yellow, red caution Damn, time to really show 'em who I am Get followed in real life for playin' with me on the 'Gram, nigga I done earned stripes in the field like the Rams I'm clutchin' this pipe while I'm turnin' the wheel in the Lamb' Feed her hard dick, the only time I give your lady lunch In here with the fam, rollin' deep like the Brady Bunch They can't stop me when I score, they like "Watch the way he come" On it like twenty-four, bitch, I can go for eighty-one (Come on) Let's sit and talk about some real shit Deep up in them slums, found a way to make a mill' quick I was goin' numb, so much pain that I couldn't feel shit Foot up in they necks, I know I make it hard to deal with, ha On gang, man Hood Poet, man, on gang Owe a lot to y'all man New shit on the way New album on the way