| Song | Do You Believe |
| Artist | The Beatnuts |
| Album | Stone Crazy |
| Juju： | |
| Ayo , its ill when i'm heated how my heart stay cold | |
| Write a rhyme that make the gats around the world explode | |
| Now behold the burning malice of a treacherous soul | |
| First time i shot a gun duke , i was 12 years old | |
| But since then , i've never put it down my friend | |
| She go to war when i tell her | |
| Fuck a who , why , when , til the end | |
| Indeed its good to have and not need | |
| Even better when you can shoot back and not bleed | |
| Take heed , poppin like an el full of seed | |
| My team is gettin bigger , got more mouths to feed | |
| Shorty let me tell you bout my only vice | |
| It got to do with lots of money and it aint nothin nice | |
| It aint nothin nice | |
| Chorus: (2x) | |
| Ay , you believe in god? | |
| You do , tell him to save you | |
| Cause me and these niggaz here | |
| We aint tryin to save you | |
| Regardless of the fact that its close to home | |
| I gotta finish your life , so i can start my own | |
| My own nigga | |
| Psycho les: | |
| Ayo , my audios guaranteed to lift the audience | |
| It was that time again | |
| So we gathered up 40 men | |
| 40 ounces , trees burning , heads bouncin | |
| Dollars is the mission | |
| Sittin in the yoga position | |
| Isolate my mind from your bitchin | |
| Pulp fiction | |
| Lose you in the mix in | |
| Lets get this poppin , lock down the top 10 | |
| Knockin pretty boy cats on they ass each time we drop kid | |
| Yeah , you know how we comin | |
| Raw grooves with the funky drum drummin | |
| And when my song goes off | |
| You'll still be hummin | |
| Noddin your head , or singin my chorus | |
| The after midnight feen | |
| The 4 in the morning blunt feen | |
| Peelin dutches | |
| Fill em in like taco shells | |
| Willing judges | |
| Wheeling jake with half a cake in my coat | |
| Pointin gats like remotes | |
| At cats with federal notes | |
| Tossin bodies off boats | |
| Chorus (2x) | |
| Our own nigga , our own |
| Juju: | |
| Ayo , its ill when i' m heated how my heart stay cold | |
| Write a rhyme that make the gats around the world explode | |
| Now behold the burning malice of a treacherous soul | |
| First time i shot a gun duke , i was 12 years old | |
| But since then , i' ve never put it down my friend | |
| She go to war when i tell her | |
| Fuck a who , why , when , til the end | |
| Indeed its good to have and not need | |
| Even better when you can shoot back and not bleed | |
| Take heed , poppin like an el full of seed | |
| My team is gettin bigger , got more mouths to feed | |
| Shorty let me tell you bout my only vice | |
| It got to do with lots of money and it aint nothin nice | |
| It aint nothin nice | |
| Chorus: 2x | |
| Ay , you believe in god? | |
| You do , tell him to save you | |
| Cause me and these niggaz here | |
| We aint tryin to save you | |
| Regardless of the fact that its close to home | |
| I gotta finish your life , so i can start my own | |
| My own nigga | |
| Psycho les: | |
| Ayo , my audios guaranteed to lift the audience | |
| It was that time again | |
| So we gathered up 40 men | |
| 40 ounces , trees burning , heads bouncin | |
| Dollars is the mission | |
| Sittin in the yoga position | |
| Isolate my mind from your bitchin | |
| Pulp fiction | |
| Lose you in the mix in | |
| Lets get this poppin , lock down the top 10 | |
| Knockin pretty boy cats on they ass each time we drop kid | |
| Yeah , you know how we comin | |
| Raw grooves with the funky drum drummin | |
| And when my song goes off | |
| You' ll still be hummin | |
| Noddin your head , or singin my chorus | |
| The after midnight feen | |
| The 4 in the morning blunt feen | |
| Peelin dutches | |
| Fill em in like taco shells | |
| Willing judges | |
| Wheeling jake with half a cake in my coat | |
| Pointin gats like remotes | |
| At cats with federal notes | |
| Tossin bodies off boats | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| Our own nigga , our own |