| Song | 40th Boys |
| Artist | The Diplomats |
| Album | More Than Music, Vol. 1 |
| 作曲 : Byrd, Holmes, Shemer | |
| Its scram jones nigga | |
| Yea, a-mafia nigga | |
| 40th boys | |
| Its dipset | |
| Purple city, duke the god | |
| Ayo yall know how the fuck we do this shit | |
| (chorus x2) | |
| Ayo | |
| Now all my real niggas pop it off | |
| Shoot em until his top come off | |
| I'm gettin money so, i gotta floss | |
| Cause im the boss | |
| When i come out, the thugs come out | |
| Stomp him out, till the blood come out | |
| He frontin, let a slug come out | |
| I'll show you what a thug about | |
| (a-mafia) | |
| Yo | |
| I see his face tightnin | |
| But i aint with the face fightin | |
| Try to imitate tyson | |
| He gonna taste lightin(that fire nigga) | |
| I see some gangstas on my right and the left of me | |
| Keep the tech on me | |
| Black gloves and a vest on me | |
| Our jesus resurected | |
| Tv's in the lexus | |
| Breezy's wanna sex us | |
| Freezy on the necklace | |
| Its mafia (where) | |
| A-mafia here | |
| Throw your hands in the air for a-mafia yea | |
| I start rumbles when i come through | |
| Go bundle for bundle(pack for pack nigga) | |
| I got some killas that'll come through and slump you | |
| I hear them mumble, about the coke they got | |
| Till them niggas ran in they spots,and broke they lock | |
| These clown niggas wanna smoke a-maf | |
| Now leave em on the floor | |
| Catch him slippin while he in front of the corner store | |
| But i aint goin out,(nope)homie im squeezin at you first,let off shots and leave you in a hurse | |
| (chorus) | |
| Now all my real niggas pop it off | |
| Shoot em until his top come off | |
| I'm gettin money so, i gotta floss | |
| Cause im the boss | |
| When i come out, the thugs come out | |
| Stomp him out, till the blood come out | |
| He frontin, let a slug come out | |
| I'll show you what a thug about | |
| (40 cal.) | |
| Yea | |
| All my real niggas pop at ya | |
| 40 and a-mafia | |
| We gettin money ho, we popular | |
| It get impossible to body ya | |
| Photographers is watchin ya | |
| My whole block hotter then somalia | |
| 40 shoot the hollow points | |
| Hope your vest titanium | |
| They dont want you in new york | |
| Like the west side stadium | |
| Schemin on your money, like a bedstuy | |
| Atm | |
| You beefin at 7, you dead by 8 p.m. | |
| Internet chatroom thug | |
| Niggas thinkin they wolves | |
| But your heart pumpin racoon blood | |
| But im rollin with them baboons cuz | |
| Where we call it brain wash | |
| Shoot your brains in the bathroom tub | |
| I'll bring them crumb snatchers out | |
| For a lump cash amount | |
| We ride up cornerstore, got a dutchmaster drought | |
| I'll make funkmaster shout | |
| Its gonna be problems | |
| Call me game, you'll be my new son up in harlem | |
| Where we hustle fam, more bags than a luggage man, | |
| Like box braids, keep my knots up in rubberbands | |
| My wrist spring bling, my chain summer jam | |
| You should see the hummer fam | |
| The rims do the runnin man (damn) | |
| (40 cal) | |
| All my real niggas pop at ya | |
| 40 and a-mafia | |
| We gettin money ho, we popular | |
| It get impossible to body ya | |
| Photographers is watchin ya | |
| My whole block hotter then somalia | |
| (a-mafia) | |
| Now all my real niggas pop it off | |
| Shoot em until his top come off | |
| I'm gettin money so, i gotta floss | |
| Cause im the boss | |
| When i come out, the thugs come out | |
| Stomp him out, till the blood come out | |
| He frontin, let a slug come out | |
| I'll show you what a thug about |
| zuò qǔ : Byrd, Holmes, Shemer | |
| Its scram jones nigga | |
| Yea, amafia nigga | |
| 40th boys | |
| Its dipset | |
| Purple city, duke the god | |
| Ayo yall know how the fuck we do this shit | |
| chorus x2 | |
| Ayo | |
| Now all my real niggas pop it off | |
| Shoot em until his top come off | |
| I' m gettin money so, i gotta floss | |
| Cause im the boss | |
| When i come out, the thugs come out | |
| Stomp him out, till the blood come out | |
| He frontin, let a slug come out | |
| I' ll show you what a thug about | |
| amafia | |
| Yo | |
| I see his face tightnin | |
| But i aint with the face fightin | |
| Try to imitate tyson | |
| He gonna taste lightin that fire nigga | |
| I see some gangstas on my right and the left of me | |
| Keep the tech on me | |
| Black gloves and a vest on me | |
| Our jesus resurected | |
| Tv' s in the lexus | |
| Breezy' s wanna sex us | |
| Freezy on the necklace | |
| Its mafia where | |
| Amafia here | |
| Throw your hands in the air for amafia yea | |
| I start rumbles when i come through | |
| Go bundle for bundle pack for pack nigga | |
| I got some killas that' ll come through and slump you | |
| I hear them mumble, about the coke they got | |
| Till them niggas ran in they spots, and broke they lock | |
| These clown niggas wanna smoke amaf | |
| Now leave em on the floor | |
| Catch him slippin while he in front of the corner store | |
| But i aint goin out, nope homie im squeezin at you first, let off shots and leave you in a hurse | |
| chorus | |
| Now all my real niggas pop it off | |
| Shoot em until his top come off | |
| I' m gettin money so, i gotta floss | |
| Cause im the boss | |
| When i come out, the thugs come out | |
| Stomp him out, till the blood come out | |
| He frontin, let a slug come out | |
| I' ll show you what a thug about | |
| 40 cal. | |
| Yea | |
| All my real niggas pop at ya | |
| 40 and amafia | |
| We gettin money ho, we popular | |
| It get impossible to body ya | |
| Photographers is watchin ya | |
| My whole block hotter then somalia | |
| 40 shoot the hollow points | |
| Hope your vest titanium | |
| They dont want you in new york | |
| Like the west side stadium | |
| Schemin on your money, like a bedstuy | |
| Atm | |
| You beefin at 7, you dead by 8 p. m. | |
| Internet chatroom thug | |
| Niggas thinkin they wolves | |
| But your heart pumpin racoon blood | |
| But im rollin with them baboons cuz | |
| Where we call it brain wash | |
| Shoot your brains in the bathroom tub | |
| I' ll bring them crumb snatchers out | |
| For a lump cash amount | |
| We ride up cornerstore, got a dutchmaster drought | |
| I' ll make funkmaster shout | |
| Its gonna be problems | |
| Call me game, you' ll be my new son up in harlem | |
| Where we hustle fam, more bags than a luggage man, | |
| Like box braids, keep my knots up in rubberbands | |
| My wrist spring bling, my chain summer jam | |
| You should see the hummer fam | |
| The rims do the runnin man damn | |
| 40 cal | |
| All my real niggas pop at ya | |
| 40 and amafia | |
| We gettin money ho, we popular | |
| It get impossible to body ya | |
| Photographers is watchin ya | |
| My whole block hotter then somalia | |
| amafia | |
| Now all my real niggas pop it off | |
| Shoot em until his top come off | |
| I' m gettin money so, i gotta floss | |
| Cause im the boss | |
| When i come out, the thugs come out | |
| Stomp him out, till the blood come out | |
| He frontin, let a slug come out | |
| I' ll show you what a thug about |