Ooh, hoo-ooh, hoo-ooh, ooh

(Brrt) burn it down, burn it down, speedin' down ready
Heaven don't let me down, comin' down heavy
Brooklyn nigga, ridin' low in the Chevy
Make this '94 feel like a Bentley

Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain with my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain in my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
(Oh-oh)

Uncle Munsen in the corner playin' dominoes
He a genius, trappers never make the honor roll
Oh, but to me you're the one though
Screamin', "Rastafari, 'til I die", sellin' cocaine gumbo
I'm just good at playin' dumb
Young chameleon seen the Rover with the paper tags
Spendin' paper racin', tryna get his childhood back
It's cool
He's back on road

(Brrt) burn it down, burn it down, speedin' down ready
Heaven don't let me down, comin' down heavy
Brooklyn nigga, ridin' low in the Chevy
Make this '94 feel like a Bentley

Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain with my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Turnt up, tryna kill the pain in my sick cup
Fucked up, turnt up, piped up, gripped up
Whole block, whole gang prayin', I deliver

No they would never stop, even if I fall
If I ever die, it's nobody's fault
Just don't let me down, just don't break my heart
In my '94 Bentley, I'm a fucking star

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Carlos St. John Phillips, Lee Stashenko