The east to the west 
Up north to the down south 
Live wires connect 
So if you swangin' on thangs 
(Keith Murray, UGK and oh my Lord Jamar) 
Or down to gangbang, or waitin' on the train 
It's still the same thang 

You cut your mind and your body with the rhyme and the shotty 
Go and find me or hidin', with wine and Bacardi 
Get down like John Gotti then I gotta get lost 
I'm gone in the wind 
My momma keep on tellin' me there's Bun in the sin 
I guess I'm hell-bound destined 
To learn my lesson, sess in my chestin' 
It burn but I keep on puffin, no bluffin' 
They don't call me Big Bun for nothin' 
No homeboys you come dead, well put em to rest 
Bumba clocks em all dead, wit two in his chest 
Botty bwoy you come dead, and if in all die 
Will you run dead em again? Well go on buddy let em fly 
That's how it is in my city, and your city 
Sir it gets no prettier just more gritty per capita, all around 
From the five boroughs on down to the mighty Bro town 

Now watch this current rock it current for a sentence 
For a triple homicide, cripple any drama that reside in the mind 
Of those livin' outside of my state line 
Let em know we all the same kind 
With the same crimes, catchin' the same time, which translates to hang time 
Organized gangs slangin' dime 
Lord Jamar is black G-zuz, I sees this 
Everywhere I go, brothers hustlin' to make the doe 
Fast or slow, ya want to see your cash grow 
Like grass, but meanwhile take a blast of the el 
And let the smell resonate, never hesitate 
When it comes to puttin' food on your plate 
Devise schemes by all means 
Like a sunrise when it beams, keep your eyes on the cream 
Live wires on the team Connect, get respect for they realness 
I know you feel this 

Uhh, now who that tryin ta claim they be thumpin' 
That's only when your funky little fake tape be bumpin' 
You can catch a square and get done unfair 
Because aah, I'll be there, I'll be right there 
Cocoa butter, got that, make em all for 
Real life hustler movie maker, I know how y'all feel 
But long as I'm alive I'ma do the right thing 
And block out this stress my past criminal life might bring 
The only way I use to nip it in the bud 
Was ta try and put some bullets in some of you joker's guts 
I got victims, G it ain't about the face you make 
It's all about the place you take between yourself and snakes 
Now everybody open up your arms for the cocoa- 
Mr.Former Football Player-ex drug dealer-gold digger-
Killer with scrilla, they be missin' me with the bomb breakin' 
'Cause I gets busy like no cornwheat 

I'm tryin' ta stack paper, these pigs can't stand me 
It's all about my family, it's all about my candy 
It's all about the crush, all about the feelin' good 
All about the rush, all about us, the first family 
Somethin' that a young fool never really planned to be 
But funny situations, do bring change 
And young fools do out here in this wicked game 
That's how I'm gon' starve when fools eatin' steak 
Man, I can't stop now, too much money out here to make 
Now you could turn your nose up and you can suck your teeth 
But I gotta get this money, ain't nobody gonna get it for me 
And I might have to do shady things 
Stick up kid all out, no shame 
Run your rings, ear ring in change 
Don't make me give it to ya 'cause it ain't no thang 
I do it for the glory man, cuff the thangs 
I gotta let em hang, I'm stuck in '87 tryin' to regain my brain 
Too many undercovers know my name 
A phone line like fire 'cause I'm a live wire 

Who is this with malicious onslaughts? 
Keith Murray, UGK and oh my Lord Jamar 
And we bustin' on all you losers 
Ridin' twenty-deep in two black Land Cruisers 
Recognize or get paralyzed with the drum 
Where I'm from they promise you a fair one, then blast you with the gun 
And everybody standin' around like it's funny 
Junior L.O.D pickin' your pockets for your money 
The checkered, I slide off and make a funky record about it 
No more than four minutes and some seconds 
And live wire connected, from my peoples on the street who respect it 
And the jeeps, hoopties, Benz and Lexus 
My squad stretches from New York to Portland to Texas 
Let's see who's next to test this 
Some herbs, ready to get their heads served 
To the hard curb