*phone rings*
[Damn, the devil’s out to get you for your paper]
[N***as tryna get you for your paper]
[They will tell you lies—what do you expect?]

[Brotha Lynch Hung + (Art B.)]
(Uh, what’s up, man?)
What’s up, n***a? You ain’t taking my calls or something, n***a?
(I tried to call you for a meeting)
Ah man, fuck yo’ meeting, n***a! Where my check at, n***a!
(Check?) N***a, my check, money, n***a
(Uh, uh, DRT ain’t paid me yet)
Man, it’s been a month since you said…
[We are tired of your games]
(I ain’t got it, man)
Oh, you ain’t got it—alright then, n***a
(Lynch! Lynch!)