Ayy
Ayy
(What you gonna do? What you gonna do?)

(R-R-Run-run) Here come the menaces to sobriety
like what? (What?)
Super thuggers thumpin' on the cut (Run-run)
(Run-run) My motherfuckin' Uzi weighs a ton
Hit the drum 'til you hear it go "brrum-pum-pum-pum"
(Run-run) Piety just really isn't us, what a rush
See you cuttin' up a pie, that's my lunch (Run-run)
Run your motherfuckin' pockets when I come
It's a honor to be robbed by Denise's only son
Yeah, ever ready baby boy of Bettie, movin' extra heavy
Whippin' Chevys, gotta get it
eat spaghetti with the mobsters
Vegan bitches, feed 'em dick
'cause they don't eat no steak and lobster
Sosa was my hero, homie
Tony's just a fuckin' hossa (Out of sight)
Out of mind, out of touch, out of time
Man, I'll smoke a bogie backwards with a thumb up
like, "It's fine" (Run)
Save yourself, I say, selflessly divine
Leave me here to drown in glory
you're too good to cross that line (Run-run)
Tragically struck down in my prime
By the speed at which the bags are dropping
shoulda watched the sky
You don't wanna live this life, it's really not sublime
I'm only doing what I want
while hockin' loogies at the swine

Out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
I don't give a fuck, out-out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
What you gonna do? What you gonna do?

[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
We the motivating, devastating, captivating
Ghost and Rae relating product of the fuckin' '80s
Coke dealin' babies, never regulating, bag accumulating
It would not be overstating to say they are underrating
The pride of Brooklyn and the Grady, baby
We don't need no compliments or confidence
Our attitude and latitude is "fuck you, pay me"
Next summer, leather bombers, dookie ropes
and smokin' indica
Ain't a team as mean and clean as J Meline
and Michael Render, bruh
TV got no temperature, even if it did
Bitch, we cool as penguin pussy on the polar cap peninsula
Colder than your baby mama heart (Uh)
When she find out you been fuckin'
with that other broad and you ain't got that rent for her

I know you just about McFuckin'
had it, our shit is just magic
Go figure the runts of the litter did it without scammin'
Was fryin' in the fat of the land, now your man is mashin'
We back of the class and laughin'
you raisin' a hand and tattlin'
Mike shitted in your locker
then left a note with a winky face
Meet us at three o'clock if you wanna do something tragic
We'll shrinky-dinky all of that yappin', it's automated
The gears of the rapper shredder
want action and it'll have it

[Verse 4: Baco Exu do Blues]
Ah, eu atravesso cidades sem precisar de carona
Eu nasci pra usar Puma, 'cês são tudo cafona
Esses negos me imitam tipo clones da sombra
Devo ser terrorista porque todos são bomba
Uma mamacita latina comigo na autoestrada
Parados na fronteira com droga importada
Ela cospe tanto que parece minha arma
Eu tentando dar fuga, ela baba e atrapalha
Foda-se, seu polícia, 'cê tá meio equivocado
Eu não sou mexicano, eu sou baiano, caralho
Um preto perigoso, gostoso e bronzeado
Kanye West da Bahia, corpo e carro blindado

Out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
I don't give a fuck, out-out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
What you gonna do? What you gonna do?
(Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
Sight (Ayy)
(Ayy) Sight
(Ayy)
(Ayy)
What you gonna— gonna— gonna— What you gonna do?
Sight (Ayy)
(Ayy)
Sight (Ayy)
(Ayy) What you gonna— gonna— gonna— What you gonna do?