Hard! Uh, these niggas ain't ready. What! What! These niggas ain't ready. Big Blaze, Layzie Bone, Big Caz in your ass. Caught up, caught up, caught up well come on dog, come on dog. In the world of bullshit (Bullshit!) we gotta get ya. Dog, Layzie Bone, puttin' Blaze, Caz. Caught up. Caught up, caught out. Caught up. Whoa!
-Blaze-
No doubt, I was born caught up in the crimes, scorned and tortured, walkin' with dueces and nine's runnin' with fruits and dimes/ We love nothin' but the best rockin' the newest designs while I survive the truest of crimes/ And been doin' my time from behind the walls, from Trophy Halls to County/ These devils have paced and been tryin' to drown me/ Since Momma's womb spit me out and nerve bound me till the dirt found me, son/ Since then I've never slept soundless wakin' up tossin' and turnin'/ Burnin' my soul like it ain't German/ Pimpin' the people like a Preacher in the middle of the Sermon/ Flirtin' with death, nigga/ Fuck nursin' your vest/ Layzie, Caz and Blaze don't settle for less
-Chorus-
Got caught up slippin' again, you got a hole in your game (Caught up, caught out) Ooh! Flat broke, dead out of luck (Caught up, caught out, caught up, caught out) Ooh!
-Layzie Bone-
Ya'll niggas is assed out, draws down, caught 'em around your ankles, man/ Better prepare for the fuckin' cause this gangsta shit; It just ain't your thang/ Especially on the grind and shit from smashin' on these clowns/ The bigger they come the harder they fall, puttin' the thrashin' on these clowns/ Sound off! One! Two! What the fuck you gon' do? Three! to the fuckin' .57 puttin' it on you/ I don't tolerate with niggas that's comin' up short on my profits/ I will pull it out and cock it, pull the hammer back and pop it (Pop it!) My riders' like that, a killer for mine, a hitter for mine/ Stand up, nigga, fight back/ A pitiful life is a serious crime/ Bill Collector still collectin' niggas hate but still respectin'/ Gamblin' wit your life my nigga, better get to bettin'/ Pussy niggas is threatened, L Burna is keepin' a weapon/ I will use it in a second, my luv, you better check it/ If I could help it, none of these phony niggas would breath/ Why you slippin' on your pimpin'? Nigga, you won't roll for me
-Chorus-
-Caz-
(Ha, hah) 225 pounds of funk/ I don't talk a lot of shit but I will when I pop this trunk/ But I'm thicker than a little bit, I hit like a meal quick/ Nigga, you know who I'm with, you fuckin' with the wrong clique/ L-A-Y-Z-I-E (Whoa) You ain't fuckin' with the spittin' nigga C-A-Z so just stop (C'mon) and just think about it cause ya'll don't really want to get down/ So just stop (What?) and really think about it cause your Momma-roomed bitch ass ain't ready for this beat down/ We got this heat, clown, chin-chopped, a block stopped/ I puts the metal to the pedal, hit hard like a shovel/ Nigga, you ain't on this level so just move on, get your groove on elsewhere (Uh) You ain't gots to go home (Whee) but your bitch ass gots to gets the hell out of here
-Chorus-
-Outro-
Okay, you done heard three of the hardest -cored bangin' motherfuckers. Big Blaze, Layzie Bone, Big Caz, and my nigga behind the track, Big Brawl in your motherfuckin' face. Caught Up, caught up.