Chorus:
  I got one mo switch I can hit
  I got one mo bullet in my clip
  I got one mo drink I can steal
  I got one mo sack I can twist
    Verse 1, Coolio:
  I wear a "S" on my chest
  I prefer my vest
  And if the chronic run out, loc, pass the stress
  Cause all I wanna do is just roll my things
  Turn up the alphine and let the woofers bang bang
  To the boogie say up jump the boogie
  He was tryin' to get a grip on my cookies
  I shook thee
  I coulda took him, but he wadn't even worth a bullet
  I had my finger on the trigger, but I couldn't pull it
  From defamation to desimation
  Every day is like summer vacation
  A nigga couldn't wait for somethin good to put in yo Kenwood
  Turn it up to twenty-one, and bop it in your hood
  I'm a eastside nigga (Nigga)
  Gotta have sprilla (Sprilla)
  Do or die, low down, real life killa (Killa)
  They comin' through the hold on tip toe
  You swear, so
  I gotta get your grip, hoe
    Chorus
    Verse 2, 40 Thevz (Lek Ratt, P.S.):
  Yes, yes, y'all (Yes y'all)
  40 Thevz in the house, with a fifth y'all (Fifth y'all)
  Better recognize a tennis shoe pimp, y'all (Pimp y'all)
  When I'm rollin' through your hood in my six, ohhhh, that be you
  When our four colors rock, front and ass out
  All the riders shake and smile when they see me hit the block
  Your sounds ain't beatin
  So your girls ain't freakin
  Watch your fly, got the whole post meetin
  Hit 'em in their eyes
  And go suicides
  Later, pump them on the ground just to show 'em what it's like
  To hit the mic for a licken
  Hell no, I ain't trippin
  Cause I kinda like pimpin
  Bein' freer than a pigeon
  Got your bitch down in positions
  All kinda ways
  40 Thevz pimpin these suckas till they graze
  So, come with these weak flows if you must
  But I got a hundred and twenty-one mo rounds I can bust
    Chorus
    Verse 3, Coolio:
  Put the pep in yo step and the glide in your stride
  Like Clyde
  Drexler, this is eastside
  Westa, recognize the routine
  Mo jackers and packers than the Super Bowl ring team
  So, why you tellin me to sell a key of yayo
  That's how you give a fellow need like Jayo
  We lay low
  All up in the cut
  If it's suicide then roll the bustas up
  And I'ma hit 'em up like uppercut
  Better shuffle yo feet like double dutch
  Now the party didn't start til I walked in
  And it probably wont end til I sip Hen
  But in the meantime
  And in between time
  Better tuck in your chin
  And learn to take your lumps and grin
  You know you can't wait cause I'ma stay on one
  One switch, one sack, one sip, but I ain't done
    Chorus, Repeat 4X