[Freeway]
Yeah! Gunna! Get 'em!

[Young Chris]
Well it’s the C from the R-O, the Polo a cargo
The Murcielago, garage a car show
The ‘matic is auto, suit ‘em up, hard-toe
Hard-toe, get that to the wire like Marlo

[Freeway]
And so the wrist stay on glisten, the beats keep on ripping
Touch me? Dream on, or y’all keep on schiz'ing
It’s the king of the flow-switching, I do it best
Smif-N-Wes, right under the rest where the arm go

[Wale]
It’s Mr. Need-an-Encore, J11 Concord
You n***as is John Q., you don’t have the heart for it
Catch me out in Largo, showin’ off my hard work
Count so much bread, swear to God that my arm hurt

[Young Chris]
Give ‘em the LV, fresh pair of lens and a nice belt
I be in the women, swimming like Mike Phelps
Young black distributor, did it with the white help
Little bit of green, too, satisfy the fiends too
[Freeway]
Me too! I’m saying, bringing the banger right here
I been hip-hop gaming, dropping bangers all year
Freezer, bang that thang and end your singing career
Hoes like it, fly private, do my thing in the air

[Wale]
Well, am I making it clear, or did I st-st-stutter?
Globetrotting is nothing, I’m living out of my luggage
A neighborhood superstar, don’t even hit the public
Discovery Channel tape us and swear the hood is a jungle

[Young Chris]
Motherfuck 'em, they feed the R&B and let the rest starve
Had to leave my old team like Brett Favre
Condensate, you fucking hater, let the mag off
Then watch ‘em turn to commentators like Bradshaw

[Freeway]
Rock stages, snatch wages, you can hate me or love me
MTV-Unplug me and put me up with the greatest
Lil’ sweats, Louie specs, I put you up on the latest
‘Cause I made it, graduated to the Benz from the buggy

[Wale]
And we the freshest, they love, it, we the subject of discussion
We can get it popping, brother, out in public, we ain’t running
I ain’t playing, I ain’t caring at all, Philly, we ready for war
We bring it to ‘em, they Usain Bolt, gone
[Beanie Sigel]
If I don’t come up, the sun won't
Def might Jam but my gun don’t, I keep the 40 Glock with me
I’ll give the jockey on your ‘Lo shirt a wiggy
You can keep the coke, papi, but the dough coming with me
I’m all about the Benjamins, baby, pockets Puffy
Big Poppa of the Property, you got to love me
Popped off if it’s problems, we can do this publicly or in private
However do you want it, B
No problems do you want with me
I put your body in that box so comfortably, church
Lay a n***a six feet beneath earth
While the preacher search the Bible for a verse, rest in peace!
State Prop, get your wig popped
I’m on my job in the hood like Young Bob giving headshots
King of Philly, there’s none before me and none to come
I got it locked like the wig on Stunna’s son