Let's do this shit homie (C-O-N)

Know I'm sayin'

G Rabbs, feds hot on the block homie

I think you better (Run, run)

US marshals just got word you came down from Atlanta

I think you better (Run, run)

Fucking ATF, know about the weapons

You got stashed at your grandmas house

DEA's getting ready to hit the crack house homie

I think you better (Run, run)

Ernie G. (What's up C-O-N?)

It's like this homie, the world is mine

Know I'm sayin', Scarface2 The Mixtape

Big G Rabbs (Scarface 2)

Check me out (Let's go)

I'm all alone in this world, and no one I trust

This a shady ass game, I'd rather smoke me some dust

'Cause everybody and they mama trying to sit on the throne

But I'm the only King out this bitch, come on

These fucking rap groups wanna climb to the top

But they flop 'cause they lops and they get no props

They better stop, vatos look confused

I'm the one on the news, that got nothing to lose

Foos want me out the game, that they willing to snitch

Bout the rocks that I pitch and the weapons I ditch

There's controversy, behind the name I built

And love for the streets, got 'em killed, blood spilled

'Cause the weed don't hit me when I feel like this

I'm part of something bigger than just pulling the trigger

Lord forgive me, for my satanic rhymes

'Cause they only metaphors to describe my life, the world is mine

Hahah, this big G Rabbs homie

Scarface 2 The Mixtape

What's up perro?

High Caliber Exclusive

Check this out

I kick the realness, they send blacked out agents

Assault gun charges, trying to stuff us in cages

Check the timeline, from beginning to now

In this urban world, a fight to the last round

SUV drive-by, stay busting that gat

I stay lifted with the wicked, I decipher my raps

I caught a hot one, ese on the run

CA D.A. saying I'm the one

Fingerprints bloody knife, Pink Floyd The Wall

Equip with the shit you can't find in the mall

So the bitches on their knees, touch my dick and it grows

Sip of hen, hit the Buddha then I'm breaking 'em off

Cash route, cash flows, Glocks and dope

Ese toast to the culture, ephedrine barrels is go

The streets my religion, vatos call me the pope

A prophetic beast, this ghetto magic behold

The world is mine