Verse 1 - E Luv
I heard it said that BG wasn't shi-
As if any motherfu--in' hood could fu-- with it
Come to mine and talk that talk, as- hole
VoiceCrack’ll time how fast you walk that walk your as- home
If you can even escape the gauntlet
The niggaz and mesicans in Wheeling are quick to claim a set
Don't forget the Vice Lords and Muslims own Palatine
Step to the skaters in Arlington Heights and it's Hammertime
I can't help it if we're hype, hardcore, phat and all that
And your hood is weak, watered down, second hand wack crap
I put BG on the map
And you got jealous see
That's the difference between you and me
You be comin' with that played out done 50K time bullshi- style
With ganked or same ol' same beats that could only impress a child
See E Luv be comin' wit' funky dope fresh BG Style
Now Terminator X ain't the only one buck whylin'
 - in dough
That we spend on White Castles, comics, and G.I. Joes
We're not constipated but you could say we're the shi-,
Cause we don't need guns to be hard
We got big dicks,
The whole nine yards
I pay my Homage


Verse 2 - Earl Solow
Buffalo Grove, strictly representin'
All non-believers be bullshi--in'
This song's about my home
So to this dope beat, I recite my poem
recka lecka mic check
Earl Solow tantalizes deck pecks
Whatever the fu-- that just meant
My flow don't need to make sense as long as it pays my rent
Nobody's got the hypest lyrics this side of Earl Solow
Think so, you're gonna bleed in your tub
Rub-a-dub dub
The game's under control, put in the scrubs
To finish - fu-- your best up
Can't nobody step to this clique
Unless you wanna eat a phat dick
Which must be real sick
But it's all because your rhymes are shi-
It's nothin' but this everyday life I live
Hittin' niggaz in they head with bricks
Even though I got a lotta luv to give
This is only for you fools on my dick
Cause livin' in BG ain't no prayer
Truth or dare
Would you give a fu--, could you care
Motherfu--ers are always in my hair
But these bitc-es just can't defile
That BG Style
I pay my Homage


Verse 3 - GMNT
Verse three
Back in the day Willy T
And GMNT we were some G's
Not some BG's
Baby gangsters weren't aloud on this family tree
You had to be real
For real
How ya feel
All ya suckas be slippin' on banana peels
Y'all know what the fu-- it's about
It's every man for himself in BG so count
On bein' tookin' out
By a looney motherfu--er incorporated
But if you're down with me, you'll never get faded
If not prepare to get check mated
I mean masturbated
Jacked off
Cause you slacked off
When we told ya to back off
Niggaz is so crazy and it don't stop
All cause you had to be hard
And when your crew left, I guess I caught you of guard
Check I simply laid you down like a bitc- in the yard
Your technique sucks, you're slow like lard
Nobody can get with these suburban commandos
You're already in the red zone
So I put cha in an ultra combo
Nigga, I pay my Homage