[Intro]
   "Y'all don't re-up like us"
   "Y'all don't re-up like us"
   "Y'all don't re-up like us"
   (Want the whole world to say "Fuck that")
   "Ay! Y'all don't re-up like us" (Haha)
   "Y'all don't re-up like us" (Easy enough right?)
   "Y'all don't re-up like us" (Fuck that!)
   "Y'all don't re-up like us"
   "Y'all don't re-up like us"
   "Y'all don't re-up like us, ay!"
   (Doctor know, state your name, gangsta, gangsta)
  
   [Verse 1]
   My new name is, Ras Gannon
   L.A. Raiders, arm like cannon
   Quarterback rap, improve your jewels
   Fuck silver, we sport platinum and black
   How platinum is that?
   Snatch my album, from y'all capital saps
   It's a motherfucking rap and
   If I turn myself in, start serving my bid
   I'm a show off my cell, on MTV Cribs (aha)
   These ain't Air Force Ones, these GFF
   Gianfranco Ferre, ostrich skin belt
   Fuck a chinchilla, rock a rap nigga pelt
   Hot to death, the boy touch flame it'll melt
   Damn shame I got the short end of the stick
   Cause I sharpened that shit, and slit the rap game's wrist
   Fuck that, Ras Kass the measure of all who claim to be nice
   From the mic to the dice to the dikes
  
   [Chorus]
   (Hands up) Throw your hands in the air
   And wave them motherfuckers, like you just don't care
   (Hands up) Put your hands in the sky
   2-11 nigga, your money or your life
   (Hands up) Throw your hands in the air
   And wave them motherfuckers, like you just don't care
   (Hands up) Put your hands in the sky
   1-8-7, ya money or ya life
  
   [Verse 2]
   All I need is one mic, two 22's, three 80's
   Four play five mama's of my babies, six 100 Mercedes
   Seven summers locking the game like Jay-Z
   Eight gangsters riding like my Bigg homie Tray Dee
   Wit Dangerous Minds inflict, thinking bout flaming this nine
   Ten in a clip, +Ocean's Eleven+, robbed the whole Vegas Strip
   Judged by twelve, but oh well
   If controversy sells, I'm about to clock a grip (whoo)
   Do the math and count the months in a year nigga
   Gave your girl a yeast infection, I fucked her and poured beer in her
   Less than a prophet, but more than a mere sinner
   Spit doper than Pookie smoking crack from car antennas
   My jaw invent a - nother niggas career, one hitta quitta
   Ras get better, you get bitter, hit her
   The homies like "Whats up?"
   And pop up in spots where gangstas throw they block up
  
   [Chorus]
  
   [Verse 3]
   Fuck that, I don't trick on hoes
   I only buy drinks, get em drunk
   Take 'em home, fuck 'em wash my dick in the sink
   White T-shirt, blue jeans, black mink
   Red-eyed like green backs, fickle pink
   Platinum Visa, patrone gold, we could speak
   Talk about breaking bread, homes, we could eat
   No loot, kick rocks, hit the road, we could street
   Keep elite company, cause like when bum niggas hang on ya leg
   It's like a poodle dry humping me
   And like Nas say, "It's disgusting"
   I hate dick riders, fuck 'em, end of discussion
   Trust me it's nothing, Ras must got another spine on his chest
   Cause you won't see me frontin'
   This real talk, like getting hit by a sawed-off gauge
   With more +Bucks+ then +Milwauk'+
  
   [Chorus]
  
   [Outro] + (w/ "Y'all don't re-up like us" - til end)
   Fuck that, yeah what up niggas
   This ya boy Young Sippio
   Kill 'em off Rasy
   Fuck that, yeah
   My thugs in the club, find a bitch wit ass
   Fuck that, yeah
   All my down ass bitches bout making that cash
   Say "Fuck that", yeah
   Re-Up Entertainment, Independent
   We treat a major like fuck that
   Yeah, getcha money, uh, fuck that