(Krikit)
yo, i bust da knees, best trust its me, krikit aint nothin but fire so yall aint touchin me
im da illest cat, get filled wit caps, and still i rap, cuz im drilled on da map
me and cyco aint the ones you wanna mess wit, dont test it, cuz i put bullets in ya chest quick
(Cyco)
startin down da berrel of a high point 380
call me crazy
yall aint ready yall lazy
cyco and krikit spit fire so hard have da mic glowin
open our mouths and then it starts snowin
but im da illest one gods chosen one
when i set it down like jamal borrows gun
(Krikit)
when we pop off you know its goin down, when i shoot a round afta round, then yall hear no sound
i rep hopewell to the fullest, take da trigga and pull it, and send da round of bullets
i desire spits, im higher wit, the punches so stop drop an roll cuz we spit fire kid
(Krikit)
we da illest ones, da illest son, mess wit krikit and cyco we kill ya son
(Cyco)
we da only ones, da only gunz, have ya soul burnin like a thousand suns [2x]
(Cyco)
my rifle got a range of 2 or 3 miles
i'll have you like the police on forensic files
no playin in da game im da infamous hallow tips
crazier then da bloods or da crypts
wit nice whips
wit ice chips
floatin in my conac cuz im buck to drop dimes
i'll be here untill the end of time
(Krikit)
its about dat time dat i drop bombs, send a letter to ya moms
sayin your in danger, got a shotty and a ranger, and got 6 in da chamber
when i pop led, deez cats drop dead, got all of hopewell sayin stop it
(Cyco)
i'll splatter cherry pie on da wall behind you
at ya funeral its a close casket for you too
damn im so rude
got ya family ragin in fude
in time when im blastin
got a crime record like charles manson
(Krikit)
we da illest ones, da illest son, mess wit krikit and cyco we kill ya son
(Cyco)
we da only ones, da only gunz, have ya soul burnin like a thousand suns (2x)
(Krikit)
when i roll by, wit da foe five, best bet ya gon die
mess wit krik dont try this, bullet take five or six, to ya eye lids
death comes soon and i called it, get balled quick, got problems but da nine'll solve it
we blaze tree, fade to black like jay-z, and always on top of da game like kg
(Cyco)
here i come cockin it back
a 50 round mac, and a metal baseball bat
dat quick to clap
cuz i'll blow out ya brains
i got a true killa, gorilla, runnin through my veins
i got da gat in my lap when im ridin
all da other pussys is hidin
runnin and glidin
i'll be till bout 7 or to one of u bitches put me wit biggie in heaven