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[Intro: Bluesman Ceddy St.
settle downs, everybody sit down
Sit for a second, Mildred!
Mildred, get yo' goddamn feet off the
(It's a Big E beat!) now, shit
This is, this is why we don't have nothin man
It's a good evenin here, Ceddy St.
This right here about to to the stage
is a from Port Arther, Texas
Real gentleman, real singer, story teller
Real gangsta, a true of the bid'ness
show him some love, talk to 'em Bun

B]
Thank y'all for to see me this evenin (yeah)
Cookin this cajun I it with seasonin (huh)
In here, I been here and don't on leavin
The king of the trill's 'bout to pass, receivin?
I'm throwin, I'm on, the mic I explode
Slow all bangin mayne just like my load
Don't me or stress me, I'm in that mode
where I could black out and leave yo' ass flo'ed
Benzes and Beamers I drove 'em and 'em
Big hoes I exposed 'em and grabbed 'em
'em right out of they clothes and I have 'em
They pussy is golden (what) my dick is
And as a diamond, I'm hard when I'm rhymin
I'm closer to God, Eric B. I'm in
that get money of mind, any day and time
That's what this is and shit ain't no in mine

[Interlude: Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

B]
Back on that so bring in the cattle
Ready for war so get to the battle
Niggaz is babies with bottles and
The street lights is on, it's your curfew,
all you got G? You comin up short
You got the muscle, you ain't got the heart
You need actin classes, you can't the part
Yo' mind ain't on money you to get smart
I'm known to spit darts that'll in the center
Right in the red for the in her
in the summer, the ball in the winter
I'm grippin that wood (shit) just got a
a beginner, a novice, a rookie
How you got bricks you can't cop a cookie?
We paper, you after the nookie
You bet against me and you lost, pay the

[Interlude: Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

Twista~!
They can run in my shoes, they know nothin 'bout the ones and the twos (nope)
Murder to the drums when I bruise, Twista killin with Bun and the Blues (yup)
Competition better study harder cause I feel we done found another tune (tune)
They gon' try to to be Muddy Waters, I'ma be the man howlin at the moon (arooo!)
Comin up and on my stack (stack) a veteran but keep my lyrics dope (dope)
And you listen out the ride (ride) I ain't even got a car note (nope)
Y'all snappin cause you wicked crushed and I'ma get 'em, I could tell her (tell her)
Fall dash rapper you tell 'em bust, he can even spit the a cappella ('pella)
He can even come right off the top (no) he don't 'em even though he crumb (no)
He can kill 'em in the studio when somebody can help him make a song (yeah)
Ask me why I don't hear it, I ya
It's nothin but lyrics in yo' folder (ha ha!)
On the we come colder, Bun B's a boa
constrictor, Twista inflicts the pain of a
Flame and I'ma ya, the remains of a soldier
Down home blues killin in the game, 'til it's over

[Outro: Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]