ترانه:
G Style Mafia

To erase this message press seven, to save it press nine Styles: Pick up ya goddamn phone man, I keep tryin to call you Jesus Christ boy, one Yeah, D-Block Styles

but, I fucked your wife We bust on bad boys, niggas fuck for life Plus, Puffy tryin' to see me weak, hearts I rip Biggie smalls and junior mafia, some

block shit Westcoast assassin on some real 2Pac shit My style's smokin' like, after a Glock spit Game get the Blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris' Style

O Making the block hotter than Jalepe OS G. Luciano Be wettin' shit like piesce in 'Casino' Fifty dollar cigar seer The cosnia, the mafia Don P. like

dont you know Killa Klan Kaze playas makin them profits Hoe [MC Mac] chillin down on the lower level waitin for my time to come with this fool a million styles

mafia, is it too much, we mafia mafia mafia, ya Are you ready for us, we mafai mafia mafia, ya We mafia, is it too much, we mafia mafia mafia, ya Are

You know the steez you know my whole program Brothers from the No-Lands, all we want is the G's guns and grams, livin fat like the Hoffa Mafia, sippin

but, I fucked your wife We bust on bad boys, niggas fuck for life Plus, Puffy tryin' to see me weak, hearts I rip Biggie smalls and junior mafia, some

just hang a bitch, bang a bitch, Leave em in dead, coffin style, bitches love a thug when they smile, uhhh It's me yo, the poet, street gigolo, mafia