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

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

[Interlude: Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

B]
Back on bullshit so bring in the cattle
Ready for war so let's get to the
Niggaz is with bottles and rattles
The street lights is on, your curfew, ske-daddle
That all you got G? You comin up
You got the muscle, you ain't got the heart
You need actin classes, you can't the part
Yo' mind ain't on you need to get smart
I'm known to spit darts that'll land in the
Right in the red for the in her
Stack in the summer, the in the winter
I'm that wood (shit) just got a splinter
You's a beginner, a novice, a
How you got bricks you can't cop a cookie?
We after paper, you after the
You bet against me and you lost, pay the

Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]

Twista~!
They can never run in my shoes, they know 'bout the ones and the twos (nope)
Murder to the drums when I bruise, killin them with Bun and the Blues (yup)
Competition study harder cause I feel like 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 standin on my stack (stack) a veteran but keep my lyrics (dope)
And you still listen out the ride (ride) I ain't got a car note (nope)
Y'all ain't snappin cause you wicked crushed and 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 kill 'em even though he crumb (no)
He can only kill 'em in the studio when somebody can him make a song (yeah)
Ask me why I hear it, I told ya
It's nothin but lyrics in yo' folder (ha ha!)
On the blues we colder, Bun B's a boa
constrictor, Twista inflicts the pain of a
Flame and I'ma show ya, the of a soldier
Down home blues killin niggaz in the game, 'til over

[Outro: Ceddy St. Louis ad libbing]