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[Intro: Ceddy St. Louis]
Please settle downs, everybody sit
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 ever nothin man
It's a good here, Ceddy St. Louis
This right about to bring to the stage
is a gentleman Port Arther, Texas
gentleman, real singer, real story teller
Real gangsta, a true veteran of the
Y'all show him love, talk to 'em Bun

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

[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. ad libbing]

B]
Back on that bullshit so in the cattle
for war so let's get to the battle
Niggaz is with bottles and rattles
The street lights is on, your curfew, ske-daddle
That all you got G? You up short
You got the muscle, you ain't got the heart
You need actin classes, you can't play the
Yo' ain't on money you need to get smart
I'm known to darts that'll land in the center
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
a beginner, a novice, a rookie
How you got when you can't cop a cookie?
We after paper, you after the
You bet against me and you lost, pay the

[Interlude: Bluesman Ceddy St. Louis ad

Twista~!
They can never run in my shoes, they know 'bout the ones and the twos (nope)
to the drums when I bruise, Twista killin them with Bun and the Blues (yup)
Competition better study harder cause I feel like we done found tune (tune)
They try to to be like Muddy Waters, I'ma be the man howlin at the moon (arooo!)
up and standin on my stack (stack) a veteran but keep my lyrics dope (dope)
And you still listen out the ride (ride) I ain't got a car note (nope)
Y'all ain't snappin 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 kill 'em though he crumb (no)
He can only kill 'em in the when somebody can help him make a song (yeah)
Ask me why I hear it, I told ya
It's nothin but bullshit lyrics in yo' (ha ha!)
On the we come colder, Bun B's a boa
constrictor, inflicts the pain of a cobra
Flame and I'ma ya, the remains of a soldier
Down blues killin niggaz in the game, 'til it's over

[Outro: Bluesman St. Louis ad libbing]