1st Thing First

[Intro]
Y'all niggas better recognize
First you better recognize G.P
Yeah yeah, ain't nuthin but attitude up in here, knahmean
So peep next tight things baby

[Chorus]
First thing first, you better recognize G.P
Fuck all that other bullshit basically
Don't really care who you be with nigga
When we comin through, keep your finger on the trigger

[Verse 1: June Luva]
I keep creating, producing flavor
That I gave ya like sugar from a neighbor
Save ya self cause I can't hold it back any longer
Feelings of hate is getting stronger
Something in my mind's taking over me
Could it be the grim reaper controlling me
I don't know but I'm sick of this shit
One minute a nigga's insane the next legit
But check it, I'm on this mission like the one David Banner
And through my travels I erupt in such a manner
Of explosion, some say that I'm the chosen
Wisdom that I speak leaving niggas stiff frozen
So gimme mines black, you know what I'm asking for
The utmost respect or I'm gonna tap that jaw
Better yet I'm tired of playing Mr. Nice Guy
Take the two piece combo to your eye
Uppercut, uppercut as I'm smashing
Consecutive body blows, ribs I'm crashing
The next time you wanna flex better do it in a different direction
Cause all this is my section

[Verse 2: Down Low Recka]
I'mma get mine, as long as I do instead of try
Don't sweat I punk, go suck a dick and die
It's business, order number one catch wreck
Second I'mma go state to state (third) make connects
Next when I get there it'll be urgent
To stain your clean style washed in detergent
Don't fight, I observe the street life is trife
Bite in a car getting your guts scarred
No food, your thoughts go through hunger, now I'm wrong for
Bringing the thunder in a song, it makes you wonder
All of a sudden I can taste it
Meanwhile wax was wasted Shaolin replaced it, face it
Hitting the switches, fixing the glitches
Been through a lot from stitches to playing in ditches
Downing French bitches
Paying the cost and being the boss and
Slinging boulders as a soldier, enforced extortion
What the fuck made a nigga tell me I don't know
I observe, all enfold to be a pro
I'm iller, striving to be a top biller
Smoking the killer, and living the high life like Miller

[Verse 3: Pop The Brown Hornet]
I play the host at your funeral
You been the victim of deadly lyrics
As I puff a bone and reminisce about the bullshit you said
Reach down and out your head, you been beheaded
On top of that your tongue's been shredded
No longer will your mouth get that ass in trouble
Resembling Nicole Simpson, laying in a blood puddle
You should've knew what you was getting yourself into
Fucking with a nigga from my crew but it's too late
All your loved ones was at your wake
Wishing you hadn't of done it
The odds was one in a hundred
But still you wanted to test your skill
Now you're laying in the box all packed with rhymes that kill
Ain't no games here, it's strictly wear and tear
It's the rapper of the year making love to your ear
I heard you smacked your girl in the shower
Cause you heard her singing my song, can we all get along
Guess not, you're mad cause I got her hotter than you ever got her
Off a nigga voice, she knew a nigga choice and all that
Kid the fly rapper, wet up with crack
Got the bitch coming back for more
Of the uncut raw hardcore she never had
Now I got her calling me dad
Nigga, unh, what, hear you buck, come on, unh, come on, unh

[Chorus]