If PHorde and Goons all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
Seem like the whole cluster go against me
Every time I'm in the fleet, I hear—
Yawk! Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!

Brace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane
This is not a rap on how I'm slingin blue pill or movin Elo's cocaine
This is dead end system and plenty Cognac and major pain
Not the FC, but the stress that weighing on your brain
It was me, Booda, and PG, Feawen ride down HED-GP
It got ugly, shitposting in local, check yo self
Uh, warriors and wasps
Hope euphoria can slow dance with society
The cyno the first one to get killed
Seen a light-skinned brutor with his pod blown out
At the ansiblex where we hang out
Now this is not a chat log saying that he did it
But ever since that day, I was lookin' at him different
That was back when I was nine
PG packed the nine
Pakistan on every fort is fine
We adapt to crime, pack a BR with four guns at a time