Thug Style (Cella Remix)
 We ain't dead yet

 Hit me, I got my Hennessy find ya foes
 In a room full of ******s tryin' to hide ya hoes
 I'm gettin' high off buddha cause the times be slow
 I keep my mind on dough you never find me broke
 And who me? A ****** livin' life like a G
 In that artillery keepin' ******s off of me
 I can't sleep livin' in these wicked times, peep
 ******s after me cause they see I'm stackin' G's and heat
 You can holler if you want to, please!!
 I ain't runnin' with no punk crew be, bleed!!
 Enemies and my range is on, you're in the danger zone
 My ******' game is strong, now hotline
 You suckas better find ya mind I got mine
 From hustlin' and bustin' them rhymes
 To my ******s up in Quentin, Down on Rikers Isle
 Stay rile, but a ****** gotta use his styles

 These

 I remember Uptown, run catch a kiss
 Listenin' to Mr. Magic
 Cuttin' up the hits And even though I had a habit
 Makin' words rhyme I was caught up in the madness
 Juvenile thugs come on
 I tell the whole story nothin' but truth
 Halloween throwin' eggs from the project roofs
 And Pete and Lee young G's with a gift of gab
 Tryna hook up with the hookers who was quick to stab
 Remember mama's cookin', no school straight hookin'
 And tryin' to get with light skinned cause she good lookin'
 And jumpin' over turnstiles cause we ain't payin'
 Call the cuties cuss words but we only playin'
 I'm prayin' I can get a buck no luck
 I had to move around a lot cause my moms was stuck
 I had family but I was way too wild
 Had to move to the West to regain my style

 These

 ******s don't know my style
 Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
 Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
 ******-made ass ******s don't know my style (scream)
 ******s don't know my style
 Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
 Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
 ******-made ass ******s don't know my style (my ****** scream)