| South-Sive, the young Don | 
| You motherfucking right, I’m back man | 
| H-A-W-K, my motherfucking big brother | 
| This for the late great Fat Pat | 
| DJ Screw baby, you did it | 
| You started this monster man, ha-ha | 
| We did that, just to prove a point | 
| When we in the vocal booth, we’ll crash the joint | 
| Another callabo, reaching for mo' do' | 
| Geeking and spitting flow, teaching a weak hoe | 
| Let me go, I drop raps a mile a minute | 
| Done six hundred thousand, local and independent | 
| Boys see me flow, but they can’t see me do' | 
| Cutting out the middle man, when you the CEO | 
| I mash and get crunk, and do it for Corey Blunt | 
| Take a two week trip, throw fifty up out the trunk | 
| Mastermind, take it to another level | 
| Basically I’m saying, that I’m platinum in the ghetto | 
| Fuck a major deal, we get nine a pop | 
| Pressing up seventy thousand, everytime we drop | 
| Release six a year, you do the math | 
| I’ma stay in the studio, and let you hear the slab | 
| We did this, just to let you niggas know | 
| (mic check straight wreck, when we come with the flow) | 
| Representing, for the S.U.C | 
| (coldest lyricists, in the 7−1-3), hey | 
| 7−1-3, is the area code | 
| 7−45, is how I hog the road | 
| 24/7 nigga, I stay blowed | 
| And all the hoes say H.A.W.K., is thoed | 
| It’s the great one, brother of the late one | 
| The straight one, when I bust with this gun | 
| Don’t hate son, cause the flow is polish | 
| Never went to college, but still blessed with knowledge | 
| Never had a major deal, and don’t even want it | 
| I just flex my skill, and crush my opponent | 
| However you want it, I bring it hard to the rack | 
| And y’all must forgot, I got platinum placks | 
| And that’s a fact, the next best thing to crack | 
| To hear one of my songs, you gotta ring it back | 
| Rewind that shit, get off in your mind and shit | 
| The kid is sick, and I love the way he spit | 
| We spit this rap, and drive this map | 
| Then I kick this flow, and go for mo' | 
| Then I let you niggas know, that I don’t play | 
| Smoke this light green, everyday | 
| I’m on my way, me and my nigga Big Hawk-y | 
| Across the water, alert the Nextel walkie | 
| Young Don, and they just can’t see | 
| Another cold nigga, from the 7−1-3 | 
| Ke hit me on the walkie, so I hit him back | 
| Did you hear what we did, to that Worm track | 
| We did that, boys better back on back | 
| Or I’ll react, and dominate just like Shaq | 
| H.A.W.K. | 
| and the Don, really we don’t barre none | 
| We the shit, and y’all mo’fuckers the runs | 
| Here we come, so y’all better move around | 
| It’s the 7−1-3, bout to shut shit down |