| Ridin to the club, candy coated on the dubs | 
| What? | 
| What? | 
| We gon' burn out, burn out | 
| What? | 
| What? | 
| We gon' turn it out, turn it out | 
| Nobody do it like G do it when he do it | 
| Ridin to the club, candy coated on the dubs | 
| What? | 
| What? | 
| We gon' burn out, burn out | 
| What? | 
| What? | 
| We gon' turn it out, turn it out | 
| Nobody do it, if beef do it, we see through it | 
| You see me coming with the roof up leaning | 
| Work on the block, I got the whole strip steaming | 
| Grab a stack from the stash for the evening | 
| Round it up with the click, now we breezing | 
| Chrome glowing, the low pros all seasoned | 
| Cuties stay blowing the do' for no reason | 
| What we spend on alone can buy a Hummer truck | 
| Next week we up, chronic, hit the numbers up | 
| Get trucked up, the weapon in the stomach tucked | 
| Click on point, my gun is never blunted up | 
| Realise man, the 5 Fam running stuff | 
| And my guys playing many men that want it rough | 
| But we really came to flash on cats | 
| And peep out a of couple ass on backs, smash on that | 
| Shook nice cigars, jump the ash on cats | 
| Thirty deep, V.I.P., in the back all that | 
| Throw my drink in a chick’s face that act all wack | 
| Ladies move, fix your attitude, get back on track | 
| Any problem with me leaving niggas back up back? | 
| And we lay last like Crack-A-Jack, put cash on that | 
| Straight gully, I give you that impression at the door | 
| Slut’s chain, just came from dressing at the store | 
| And grown man cologne, shit exit out the pores | 
| Best up the front, Smith & Wesson in the draws | 
| Give coupons, freaks come a dime a dozen | 
| Then key shine, you could turn a dime to a dozen | 
| Back in this bitch right when you thought I wasn’t | 
| It’s 5 Family Click, we all about thugging | 
| You ain’t bout money, you all about nothing | 
| The timely fetish, the lines of credit | 
| Get this money and tell a dime to spread it | 
| Playing with mines will fill this place with potent nines and medics | 
| That’s right, that little light up on the nine is reddish | 
| The shorty in that Louis Vuitton line is precious | 
| Whole place filled with behind suppressors | 
| Might get the wrinkles out the way, I iron their dresses |