The B.C.C. and Ray Allen. For obvious reasons.
Peep my words, yes my heavenly words, word
That get niggaz locked up in seventy-third
Prefer to chill, but the sun can’t do that
Due to my temperature tempted to bring it where your crew’s at
You lack with the skills that it takes to make
Ends meet cause it seems that your ass is weak
My occupation’s, operation, lockdown
On your radio station whoever got the hot sound.