(feat. Chingy, I-20, Tity Boi) 

[Ludacris] 
DTP we got them guns that go... 

[I-20] 
Yea I'm all about that pistol playa, cold blooded killa 
Niggaz recognize my name, I dub the young dealer 
You better tell ya man that with the gages I'm nice 
Ill shoot up yall white shirts until yall look like dikes 
But I'm through with all the talking time to show all you niggaz 
I 2-0, I'm like J-Lo...going through niggaz 
DTP we aint plying if you try to get our pen 
A.K's get ta spraying like... 
Bottom line that mean I'm bout it, any nigga want it, doubt it 
Bust you in the broad day, on the street that's fully crowded 
Find our hole and fagots there, just for thinking its rap 
And tell that pretty bitch thug we got some pretty big gats 
Chaka say I'm shot out, and I tend to agree 
So you should what you saying if it's intended for me 
So be careful what you starting, let my fingers do the walking 
And that oozy get to talking like... 

[Tity Boi] 
Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em 
Can the an and fuck 'em, damn 'em 
Press him, man him, scared him, teared him, kneed him up 
Bake him, take him, beat him up, I hate I hate, I eat him up 
A-B-C-E-F shawty is you a G or what 
Now it's just me and my nuts, that's all I got in this world 
I'm pulling pistols out my stomach and throwing them bitches up like earl 
Serving the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram 'em 
I'm 38, hot with a pearl handle... 
And I'm throwing text like a NBA ref 
I got, all gold guns like they came from I-RAQ 
Artillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols 
I point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya 
And aint taking no more pictures, if you snap ima click 
Anyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil Fate 
And I'm webbing choppers like heli-copters 
You gon' need hella doctors, when the glok go... 

[Chingy] 
Say on the set bitch, better watch your lip that text be quick 
20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over thurr, aint no exit trick 
Us you don't mess with, we got them guns like action flicks 
Reload with the next clip, I'm the ro nigga to flex with bitch 
Come on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit 
Put a bullet in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch 
Look at my necklace, maybe hit a ngga disrespect this click 
My pistol grip sound like this...now what 
Who want that they fucked, when I cock and load the cake, bust bust 
Yall cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up 
Yall lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra 
We'll suit you up then toss yo ass in the lake tough nut 
I'm wrist rocky, like Sylvester Stallone 
So thurr for you should invest, in a vest for ya dome 
Cause I know you marks planning on getting me when I'm landing 
Beast the nick, but my cannon go... 

[Ludacris] 
Fuck a medic, we gon' call yo ass a taxi cab 
Bleedin so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad 
So flip the script and tell your woman its your time on the month 
A.K. 47 for the niggaz who's really looking for heaven and a 9 for you chumps 
Got killaz in my squad and I'm the nicest one in my group 
But I got bananas for you niggaz and I aint talking bout fruit 
Ill pay your CAB BACK with the BLACK MACK 
Till your BACK CRACK, got the GAT BACK like...CLAK CLAK CLAK 
Swallow a hallow make 'em digest with a 50 caliber 
Yo futures not looking so good, tomorrows not on your calendar 
I, do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long 
Ill leave 'em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song 
My Shotguns are cold and hard, but my Desert is easy 
And my triggers are always talking about some squeeze me, squeeze me 
And for these fakers talking greezy, I'm starting the show 
My Oozy got a drum roll, it goes...