[Verse 1: k**er Mike]
Hardcore G sh**, homie, I don't play around
Ain't sh** sweet bout the peach -- this Atlanta, clown
Home of the dealers and the strippers and the clubs, though
Catch you coming out that Magic City with a snub, ho
Lurking in the club on tourist motherf**ers
Welcome to Atlanta -- up your j**elry, motherf**er!
These monkey n***as looking for some Luda and Jermaine
And all a n***a found was a Ruger and some pain
Pow, motherf**er, pow! Come up off the chain
Pow, motherf**er, pow! One off in the brain
We some money-hungry wolves, and we down to eat the rich
Your bodyguard ain't sh**, we strip him like a stripper b**h
These real-a** k**ers move in silence with violence
The minute it set off, we the motherf**ing wildest
How you from Atlanta they ain't never speak upon
Where everybody got a sack of dope and a gun
[Hook: Trouble]
And you know just how it go
We ain't playing round with that bullsh**
n***a, we ain't let that sh** go
When you come here, you better come correct
This real G sh**, you gotta show respect
[Verse 2: Bun B]
Once upon a time in the projects
An O.G. saw a young Bun B as a prospect
Thought that I would understand the streets from a very young age
So he opened up the G code to the front page
He sat me on the porch, said, "This where little dogs sit"
Pointed at the yard, said, "That's where big dogs sh**"
He said, "Don't leave til your a** get growed
And don't come back til your a** get throwed
Whatever you want is whatever you can have
Bring the pain and leave em wet, like they soaking in some salve
When you step out on the ave, make sure they wanna see ya
Cause being trill is an onomatopoeia
Be about it like a G, a hater wanna catch you slipping
Try to be a Jordan, but settle for a Pippen"
Player, I ain't even tripping, but I don't really care
Cause my pistol's in your face, so put your hands in the air
[Hook]
[Verse 3: T.I.]
'96 I'm riding with a pistol grip, banana clip
From Simpson Road to Adamsville, I'm repping this Atlanta sh**
n***a trying to handle up, let's see can they handle this
A hundred round at em, that ain't no Louisiana sh**
Drinking on that Hennessey, blowing on that cannabis
Amerikkka's nightmare, trap n***a fantasy
A record full of felonies, searching for a better me
But choppers go off in my hood like Iraq, Cuba, Tel Aviv
Shoot a n***a, let him bleed -- f** him, shorty
s**er n***a I'll never be, don't give a f** about it
Quick to run up on that Audi, make em get the f** up out it
n***a better be about it, he deserve it he allow it
What's a coward to a kamikaze?
He ain't robbed a man, ain't predator or prey; the law of nature where I stay
I catch you slipping with that K, ain't no illusion, no confusion
Better come up off that cake and all that j**elry or you're snoozing
[Hook]
[Verse 4: k**er Mike]
Wha-da-da-dang, wha-da-da-da-da-dang
Listen to my Kimber .45 go bang
Bang bang, Grindtime, rap game
We the readers of the books and the leaders of the crooks
Predators, we eyeballing all of y'all lames
Let me fall off, I'm taking all of y'all chains
All of y'all watches and all of y'all cars
Well, who he talking to? All of y'all stars
All of y'all rappers and producers and such
No h*mo promo, homie, you might get your a** touched
Like Def Jam circa '83, you get rushed
If you rolling with some winners, then you rolling with us
I know some dumb country n***as, but them n***as ain't me
Know they dress and look the part, but them n***as ain't G
I don't make dance music, this is R.A.P
Opposite of the s**er sh** they play on T.V
[Hook]