We are livin' in the last motherfuckin' days
This is Revelations
If it don't go down now
That mean aye'body was wrong
Can you face yourself with that question?
Or the answer? What the fuck do you believe in?

Say goodbye to the bad guy
'Zy rollin' with my cateye, deadeye
Ain't afraid to flame a rat up
But I hot out fathom
My album hit the shelves
We hustle for record sales
Hit my liquor store
Let my niggas learn about in jail
Till the squad cars accel', it's to my position as we yell
This here's some bullshit like pit bulls in the bull pen
Make that a fine, no
If you don't like my bullets, to hell if he ain't fashion
L.A. looters, throw your mask on
Gambini got his mash on and now we gonna be blastin'

[Puffy]
I'm married to the game and every year's the same
Bullets rain all season
Heaven and Hell is only what you believe in
Empty the shells if niggas give you the reason
Never was the type to be stuck and duckin' and weavin
By the grievin'
My story's no fairy tale, reach niggas in every cell
From my block to the world, gave the Glock to my girl
Don't mix the kids with the biz'
Baby, the industry's hell worth it

1 - Oh, I said, oh yeah
When they come to lock you down
(Don't let it come our way)

Oh I said, oh yeah
When they come to lock you down
(Don't let it come our way)

Oh I said, oh yeah
When they come to lock you down
(Don't let it come our way)

Oh I said, oh yeah
When they come to lock you down
(Don't let it come our way)

[Puffy]
Look in they grill and get the real
Cuz expressions can mean alot
Threw my trust in your progress
And you guessin' I seen alot
The paper got us dressin' and impressin'
We spend alot
Confessions get us blessings from the Lord
We sin a lot
Wonder will He let me in?
And not constantly tryin' to find a reason why
Because I'm a Bad Boy they wanna label me a bad guy
Now who am I?

[Bizzy Bone]
It's P. Diddy muthafucka

[Puffy]
Do or die?

[Bizzy Bone]
Don't give a fuck motherfucker

Roll through, trust no chicken
Tigh kids are tellin' me what's ammunition
Buck, buck ammunition baby
You let me slow down, the guy that got me's fell down
And mami wants to help out
So bought the best computer
Yes, stress never more
Fresh out the foster home
If I had a just talked to the psychiatrist
Tell her 'bout how she had clothes designers
Can she come buy with me?
Come ride with me, provide me with a gun
Slide the weeded road, come get high with me
You don't come weed with me anymore
You don't need me anymore
Believe me bitch, shit I've slept on the floor
Who been left before a black out
Tear up the stackhouse
Comin' out detention or they always rat (Come on)
(Pick it up, ride through)