[Intro: Drag-On]
What?
T-S n***a
Y'all don't know?

[Bridge: Drag-On]
Aiyyo its on, I see how n***as didn't learn
You is wrong, thought the fire didn't burn
Its on, me and Pun ain't from the Bronx
You's wrong, n***a we can get it on

[Verse 1: Drag-On]
Aiyyo, guns we toss 'em, and bodies we auction
To his family we tell 'em he owed us a fortune
Gimme forty-thou, you can have your child, you don't know
What I had to go through, to clap this clown
Check my background
The last n***a to see you bleed
The last n***a to see you breathe
The last n***a you wish you shoulda believed
And Drag move quick, blend right in the wall like a brick
The only thing you see before I blow off ya shit is my wrist
'Cuz my hand the gun is covered in
Not this range, when I pump this pistol, its very rare I miss
It's damn near on your lips
Y'all keep talkin like y'all teflon with no weap-ons
N***a I'm pumpin my raw, I ain't thugging no more
Nowadays n***as run upstairs, open they drawer
My circumstance, you ain't got that chance
Mines in my draw, you get it?
Thats means y'all walks for two dicks, so don't be stupid
And make me use one, unless you not a bitch
[Bridge: Big Pun]
Aiyyo it's on, you thought I was wack
You was wrong, album double plat
Yo it's on, stop talkin shit
You was wrong, get off my dick

[Verse 2: Big Pun]
How dare you doubt or deny Big Pun, the undoubtable
The only rapper that'll pull out a gun and slap the shit outta you
You can't tell me nothing, I'll clonk you and stomp out ya belly button
I'm too violent for this rap shit, I should be out somewhere killin somethin'
Too quick to blast, some n***as talk shit and dash
But I really will KICK YOUR ASS
Juggernaut, I don't care if you a thug or not
I'll get Jamaican on ya ass, rudeboy, what the bomboclaat?
On your mark get ready, run, I'm sparkin' everyone
Don't wanna get locked? Stand back and watch
Where you from?
How dare you come and try to shit where I eat
Fuck you n***a, literally
Dick in your cheeks, you rich in the street
But I'm still gon' hit cha'll n***as
Because up north you be tossin' salads with maple syrup
I know you hate to hear it, but everybody know this one
Why you always gotta be right n***a?
Why can't you ever be wrong?
[Bridge: Fat Joe]
Now it's on, from the Bronx where its at
You was wrong, me and Pun brought it back
Now it's on, stay on with the gat
You was wrong, it's the Don, Joey Crack

[Verse 3: Fat Joe]
Who the fuck want beef with Joe Crack
Make your body fold back
Lift his soul with the chrome mack
I don't chat on the phone, 'cuz the phone tapped
You heard there's money on the block, we control that
I got the work in the pot where that stove at
Cook it up 'till it's rock, get my dough back
You n***as so wack, tryna compete
I blind you with heat, I'm the reason crime on the street
I die for my peeps, keep an open eye when I sleep
Let you slide when I coulda put five in your Jeep
Who's liver than me? I ain't know you really want it
I'm like Christ, n***as beg for they life when they see me comin'
Ain't nobody gonna stop my shine, you out'cho mind
Don't make me have to cock my nine, pop ya spine
Neva did believe in the Don's
Since ninety-two I've been proving that y'all n***as was wrong

[Bridge: Remi Martin]
Aiyyo, it's on, though I'd stay on the block
You was wrong, now Remi on the rock
So it's on, thought I wasn't gonna drop
You was wrong, I was right all along
[Verse 4: Remi Marin]
I told these n***as, that I was the sickest bitch
And everytime you spit, I'mma spit some sicker shit
Ridiculous, I reminisce and blaze the track
Type of shit make a n***a wanna play it back
Y'all hatin' that, but I'mma make 'em all believers
Fuck hot, I'mma come and straight drop a fever
Cop a heater, turn around and pop your leader
And for the followers, I'mma leave their heads hollower
Make your wig twisted as if I was Oliver
Layin' in a hospital, hooked up the monitors
Thats for the game, y'all lames just came to first
'Cuz I ain't neva heard a bitch straight flame a verse
I blame the church, how God let you lie like that
Who scribed you for, 'cuz you ain't never rhymed like that
How the fuck you gon' tell me that chick is tight
She ain't 'aight 'cuz she don't write, you wrong