Texty: Free Murder. Let Freedom Reign. Let You Arms Swing.

[Intro: Free Murda]
Eastside... Fort Greene...

[Chorus x2: Free Murda]
Rolling down the street, you can catch me with my doors up
Hop out, music playing, posted on the corner
Let you arms swing, nigga, let you arms swing, nigga
Let you arms swing, nigga, let you arms swing, nigga

[Free Murda:]
Go and get your eat on, I got hoes
So my dick I don't beat on, something to throw my feet on
Curl my toes, that's how it goes, as I skeet on
Tired of shitting on 'em, so like Kels watch me pee on
It's you, your girl cheat on, once they throw Free on
Smoking on that neon, green, that's what he on
And your man CD, watch I crush weed on
And burn it like pee-pee, when you get your STD on
Crack is gon' need me, the way I get my G on
Walk the streets sleepy, that's when doc throw the sheets on
Get my fam Keon, to lean on something
Keep on fronting, got to keep on ducking

[Chorus x2]

[Free Murda:]
Poppin' your lip, I'm cocking my fifth
Only thing that he cock is his dick, with his fist
Ill, better chill, lil' calm then I mellow
Catch me with that purple like that Turtle Donatello
Armed in the ghetto, palm in my metal
Cuz I'm off that Remy Martin, not that chick from Bronx borough
I'm in a Montero, the way my palm hello
Cuz them bitch niggas'll stab me in the back, wanna have me like that
Ain't a DVD, but you can get 'smacked'
Bout to die, and I ain't goin' with ya, like a mix-match
Gat about to holla, but it ain't no chit-chat
When you hear that click-clack, you never forget that, nigga

[Chorus x2]