D.O.A.

I'm a real-made nigga

Certified grave digga

D.O.A., it's how I play

I let the fucking things hit ya

I'm a street-paid nigga

Tryna catch a fade with ya

D.O.A., it's how I play

I let the fucking things hit ya, bitch

I fuck with gangsters

Man, all my niggas make the papers

I fuck with gangsters

Man, all my niggas make the papers

Them boys is stinking

East side G.I., we don't serve no strangers

My bitch is stinking

My junkies say they need that wake up

My kitchen stinking

It's a straight bake sale when I cook that cake up

Mobbing-ass nigga, fuck a project-ass nigga

Serve the pack, man, call the trashman for these garbage-ass niggas

Say these motherfuckers scared to rob a robbing-ass nigga

Send you back to your connect, you short a lot of bands, nigga

Gangsta Gibbs, baby greasier than Weezy at the All-Star

Way too often, Jeezy, he wasn't even in my ballpark

Swing straight for the fence and drop my nuts down on the plate

I made your favorite rapper want to put a price up on my face

It's Gangsta Gibbs

Real-made nigga

Certified grave digga

D.O.A., it's how I play

I let the fucking things hit ya

I'm a real-made nigga

Certified grave digga

D.O.A., it's how I play

I let the fucking things hit ya, bitch

D.O.A., get it how I live it when I let that four go

Naptown nigga, done made it, emerging fresh out the dope smoke

All my niggas hustlers and killers, green light we all go

Send 'em all to they makers and close casket they funerals

No smiling, came up out a dirty alley with the thugs

Banging TECs and repping sets, young connoisseurs with them drugs

Pack the baggage, flip the cabbage, keep it slamming every day

How the fuck niggas talking bout R.I.P. when boy you 'bout to

D.O.A. yourself

Bang bang bang, gang bang is all I fucking know

Blazing rocks with killers and some motherfucking cutthroats

And I know Colombians that bring it by the fucking boat

Clap they ass, put they ass face down on the fucking floor

Hit a couple corners and nigga know I got the blow

Hit a couple corners now and nigga know I got the store

Riding down Grant Boulevard, pulling out the four

On my way to Ham Block, figure cause I'm on dope

Kill

[Hook 2: Freddie Gibbs]