Texty: Devilz Rejectz. Devilz Rejectz 2: House Of The Dead. Dope Game.

Yeah
It's the jack boy
It's that new shit
It's that #2 shit, yeah
Come on nigga you know what the shit is nigga
D-R

[Verse 1: The Jacka]
They say we look like we pushin work
I just push up on every turf
With my niggs, twist kush&'nade blunts
It ain't fair, so I give away the crumbs
That's a zip or two, everytime I come around
I'm a real playa fuckin off a 100 thou
Cause we real, 30 shots up in the croud
So sick, even make the haters proud
We the shit, clap you if ya gettin loud (gunblast)
Feel like the 80's babies time to hold it down
Got my gun, shootin for the damn stars
Hit the streets, & try to kick us out tomorrow
It's the future, in the hood it's stupid hard
See the block, dopeboys everywhere
Damn it's hot, I don't think I ever cared
Me & amp, finna lock another year

[Chorus: Young Bossi]
Yeah, dopegame baby, cocaine crazy
In the traphouse with the chop & ya lady
Yeah, we came a long way from standin on the block
In the kitchen whippin rock, to sittin in the drop
Coonin on you niggas, yeah the block stockbroker
Devilz rejectz it's the mobb bitch we takin over
I'm a boss & it's family first
If it's beef we hit ya family first, mothafucka

[Verse 2: Ampichino]
I count money, while you watchin your girlfriend
Look into my sons eyes watchin the world spin
My moms died, the whole world ended
Smack my girl every night, cause I'm tormented
Wanted to be a rapper, I sold my first piece of crack
Nigga I'm a trapper drug dealer stuck in the Ak
Most niggas actors, feint if they see a Mac
Nigga just got life, my cousin ain't comin back
I'm lookin at life, through carti lenses
You can have my soul, just bring me back my friends
I thought when the money came that I'd be happy
But the money changed how the world felt about my family
I went from anthony, to a devilz reject
In the ghetto with my metal, lookin for the detects
I ride around, with 3 tecs
Tryna knock a nigga down, hopin I don't be next

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Dubb 20]
Listen, all bark no bite doggie
Light the catpiss up make the car foggy
Up high in the sky blowin clouds out
Chicks cheerleadin like we holdin tryouts
That g shit that's what them guys 'bout
Cannons under the cushon in my couch, in my hideout
Money hidden in the mattress, cake in the oven
Bakin with the timer, just waitin for the buzzer
Used to be a grinder now I'm full of dubba dubbas
Back in the days my uncle & them called em hubbas
Mid 90's, we was in the hood burnin rubber
You was in the house watchin new york undercover
When them shots rang out you put your head undercover
If you get caught up you'd prolly tell the feds on a brotha
I was brought up, to be about my bread muhfucka
Art of a gunslinger goin hard at my hustle

[Chorus]