[Intro - Spoken, low and menacing over heavy bass]
Yo, it's that raw gangsta shit from the Salt Lake trenches.
Blue reppin' for the real crew. This one's dedicated... let's make it harder.
[Hook]
Homies ride or die, slugs fly when the pressure rise,
Loyal to the soil, we leave opps paralyzed.
Stackin' dirty paper, bodies drop for the set,
Homies got the straps cocked, turn your block to a mess.
Gangsta blood in the veins, we murder for the crew,
Snitch get the toe tag, no mercy — fuck you.
Homies forever, till the reaper call your name,
Hardcore gangsta war, we slaughterin' the game!
[Verse 1]
Pull up in the stolen whip, chrome hammers on the dash,
Homies masked up, Lonie, Davee — ready to turn feds to ash.
Came from scrapin' crumbs, now we flippin' heavy weight,
Trap jumpin' like crackheads, servin' death on a plate.
Lil' homie posted with the blicky, eyes on the ops,
Natalie and Pixy hold it down, never flinch when it pops.
We split the last rock, smoke the pain from the losses,
Tyson and Dieago pour Henny for the dead in coffins.
Salt Lake nights freeze, but the heat from the heaters,
Whole crew turn the function bloody — leave the weak in the bleachers.
Tats on my neck scream "loyalty or die,"
Cross the gang with Lonie, Davee, Natalie — catch a hollow to the eye.
Pixy, Tyson, Dieago — snitches get dumped in ditches,
Whole squad bury bodies, watch the fish eat the snitches.
From trap spot raids to studio smoke sessions,
We grind with the iron, teach lessons with Smith & Wessons — for the fam.
[Hook]
Homies ride or die, slugs fly when the pressure rises,
Loyal to the soil, we leave opps paralyzed.
Stackin' dirty paper, bodies drop for the set,
Homies got the straps cocked, turn your block to a mess.
Gangsta blood in the veins, we murder for the crew,
Snitch get the toe tag, no mercy — fuck you.
Homies forever, till the reaper call your name,
Hardcore gangsta war, we slaughterin' the game!
[Verse 2]
Deep in the trenches, where cowards get bodied quick,
Lonie and Davee move like ghosts, leave your mama sick.
Hit the lick at midnight, split the bag with Natalie and Pixy,
No greed — but cross us, Tyson and Dieago make your family bleed.
Lil' bro caught them shells, whole crew felt the pain,
We lit candles then reloaded, painted the whole town red with the gang.
Homies locked in the pen sendin' kites full of hits,
Blue, Lonie, Davee, Natalie, Pixy, Tyson, Dieago handle the outside — turn your hood to a crypt.
Utah mountains cold but the squad still hustle heavy,
Move that work through the snow, leave the weak floatin' in the levy.
Pressure test the fake — they vanish when it's real,
Real homies load the drum: Lonie, Davee, Natalie, Pixy, Tyson, Dieago send you straight to hell's grill.
We throwin' up the signs, bangin' for the clique eternal,
Whole crew drive-by with the fully auto, make your block nocturnal.
Cradle to the grave, blood oath carved i
