R.I.P.

[Verse 1: Jamie Madrox]
Product of the ghetto
Three Jokers like Romero, Nicholson and Leto
Real kind, yea we blast on the instrumental
Smiling teeth behind bandannas and influential
And I’m mental at the same time make it special
Rhyme my rhymes like bullet holes fuck the pen & pencil
Make casualty out of foes, body make a stencil
For the sidewalk chalk, They said he had potential
But he dead now, that’s the story of the competition
The bitches don’t exist in the mix of any music I listen
It’s like divine intervention
But can you separate the trill from the ill that’s the question
G’s up, fuck hoes always been the same since forever in a day
Ain’t a damn thing changed and the motherfuckin’ music gon' play
(Three fingers in the air) Give a fuck what they say

[Chorus]
Thugs, Felons, Hoods, G’s
Stay the day loaded and we’ll make you rep the beat
Anybody want some? Killas, rough necks
Even baby G better show the 3 some respect
Anybody steppin’ better lay down
If you feelin’ some kind of way now
We'll leave everybody dead, oh
RIP just like the motherfuckin’ soul said

[Verse 2: Monoxide]
Light the end of the weed up and let the trunk pop
Turn your front lawn into a hood store parking lot
I got the beat bangin’ like blue jeans
Hotter than the buffalo sauce without the Blue Cheese
I said I ain’t fly no more I got the new wings
I got ‘em all watchin’ how we do things, changing up the routines
Aw, you ain’t fuckin' with the new team
I don’t give a fuck how you doing
I just want to find out where you stand, start shooting, fuck arguing
I got no time for it, I’d rather get my dick sucked
And just ignore it I get for it
'Cause your writing a check and your mouth get paid for it
I’ll bitch slap your lips back, snap quick like Kit Kat's
You’re on my galaxy like I was Chris Pratt
I wanna fuck, where your bitch at
Better put a leash on it or we’re gon' have a mishap

[Chorus]
Thugs, Felons, Hoods, G’s
Stay the day loaded and we’ll make you rep the beat
Anybody want some? Killas, rough necks
Even baby G better show the 3 some respect
Anybody steppin’ better lay down
If you feelin’ some kind of way now
We'll leave everybody dead, oh
RIP just like the motherfuckin’ soul said

[Verse 3: Blaze]
Put your eyes forward, triple threat, get it lit
Man every set, where they at, fuck the bitches actin' hostile
Bible ain't no rival in the team
Put your three fingers up if you fuckin' with me
East side, I still claim, ain't a tight ass
Somebody turned up dead in the basement - nothin’ changed
Think we in the same lane highly confused
Four second story tellin' got me mildly amused
But like every politician you’re abusing your power
Time to hit the pot, or better yet, hit the showers
You's some cowards, what you’d thought I’d stay back – never that
The credits on the block bringin’ sevens on the track
You bitches still like the debt, thought you accept
Representin’ what I think somebody always get the grip
Rest in Peace with your edits
Who discredit the fam
Triple threat is back and we ain’t even going ham

[Chorus]
Thugs, Felons, Hoods, G’s
Stay the day loaded and we’ll make you rep the beat
Anybody want some? Killas, rough necks
Even baby G better show the 3 some respect
Anybody steppin’ better lay down
If you feelin’ some kind of way now
We'll leave everybody dead, oh
RIP just like the motherfuckin’ soul said