Young Chris
Champions
[Interlude: DJ Clue]
Yeah, DJ Clue, Desert Storm, the Roc
This shit right here, the Roc army
Dame Dash presents the Dream Team, n***as
Word

[Intro: Dame Dash & DJ Clue]
'Sup y'all?
Yo, this is Dame Dash, the CEO (Haha)
Here to welcome y'all to the Dream Team (Woo)
What, y'all n***as thought I was gonna rap? Never
I'm just a little mad at n***as comin' at my neck like my team ain't the best in the world
You know what I'm sayin'?
Like we ain't got Beans, Cam, Jay, Bleek, Freeway

[Chorus: DJ Clue]
We are the champions, my friend (C'mon)
And we'll keep on fighting to the end (Dream Team)
We are the champions, we are the champions
No time for losers 'cause we are the champions
Of the world

[Interlude: Dame Dash & Kanye West]
God damn, Kanye
I bet n***as didn't know you could rap huh? (They didn't)
That's my motherfucking producer, this the producer on the Roc
He rap better than most rappers!
[Verse 1: Kanye West]
Well Dame, if these n***as thought about they self for a change
Then maybe they can finally figure out how to get they self some change
I done seen jealousy make n***as do t-terrible things
How'd that song go I did with Hov? Oh yeah, shit'll never change
That's your worry, though, we are the champions
Spend a lot of time in Hampt-i-ons, do a lot of beats you can't be on
Damn, all these fans can't be wrong, damn, B.I.G., you can't be gone
Make those beats thugs wanna rock (Yeah), make a n***a feel just like Pac (Yeah)
Make it street, but it just might pop, make it straight to the mountain top
Had the Chi on lock when they finally heard I signed with Roc
Came in the game, changed it again, changed everything, yeah
If you feeling this here, throw your fucking hands in the air

[Verse 2: Young Chris & Beanie Sigel]
It's the Roc-a-Fella label, baby, fuck them other labels, baby
And we been ducking shots from all them haters lately
We getting paper, baby, them others trying to keep up
We on top, so I guess we they saviors, nope
We labeled as the Roc-A-Fellas, Jacob, watch's colors
Everywhere, hell yeah, test us and the gauges blow
Fuck they hatin' for? Don't make me pop a fella
Roc-A-Fella stop a fella, could get hot for fellas, Sig (What?)

[Verse 3: Beanie Sigel & Dame Dash]
Don't make me chop up fellas, have to call a cop for fellas
Or the helicopter fellas, n***a
I'm a Roc-A-Fella
What, n***a? for Roc-A-Fella, shit, I will rock a fella (Dame)
Goddamn, Beans, I got this, let me talk my shit one time
No, we the illest n***as, realest, I will kill these n***as
[Interlude: Dame Dash & Cam'Ron]
Now that's what the fuck I'm talking 'bout
And you wonder why I'm proud of my family?
And you wonder why I ain't gotta rap?
I got n***as that'll assassinate you, B, lyrically
Really shut you the fuck down, don't get your career ended
Leave us the fuck alone, let us rock
We are RocHeusen, we're the R-O-C (I'm here Dame, I'm here), holla (Killa)

[Verse 4: Cam'Ron]
This is just fate, how I would sit on a crate
Listen to tapes, every day a frisk was at stake
Jakes' cuffs, wrists getting raped, my mission was straight, to
Visit them states near them great Michigan lakes
And fuck a bathroom, I pissed on the gate
Flipped the bird at em, flip a bird, switch up my plates
I got plans that was better than jail
Now look, we like Bird, Parish, Kevin McHale
Scott, Worthy, Jabbar and Magic, oh my God, it's magic
Isaiah, Dumars, I will carve your casket
Phil, Scottie and Mike, Phil, Shaq and Kobe
My gats will detach you, homie
And I'm friends with thugs, I sell endless drugs
For the Roc Fam, dawg, I extend my love
Jay, Bleek, beef, I'll be crossing the bridge
Tossing they wigs, make corpse of they kids
Free, O, Sparks, and Mack Mittens
I'm 95 South, no doubt, MAC clip in
I stack chips and I'm Saks Fifth-in'
Louis Vuitton loafers, hat dripping
I go retrieve a duck, tell her proceed and suck
I don't just beat my cases, I beat 'em up
My lawyer eat 'em up, put bars behind me
I'm glad they didn't stop that car behind me, shit
It had three felons, gun shooters, no
50 cal. A.C.P., Bazooka Joe
Don't be stupid, though, I get scrilla, man
I'm for realer, man, yeah, it's Killa Cam, uh, Dipset, bitch
[Chorus]
We are the champions, my friend
And we'll keep on fighting to the end
We are the champions, we are the champions
No time for losers 'cause we are the champions
Of the world

[Interlude: Dame Dash]
What, y'all thought I was finished?
I'm not, I just recruited somebody new
I'm like the George Steinbrenner of this shit
I mean I'm rich like him, holla

[Verse 5: Twista]
Everybody's swarming, oh my God
It's the newest power forward of the squad
A legacy like Jordan with the mob
That be known for breaking motherfuckers off
Put Roc-A-Fella on my pinky ring
Fuck a battle, n***a, I'ma get them thangs
Rollin' with them Lords and them folks up out the Chi
Twista gon' make 'em spit the game
I represent the mob to the fullest
You don't want it with that boy that's known to pull it
With Kanye on the track of the Dream Team
I'm finna be the shit no matter which way you put it
They blessed a n***a in, now I'm fin' to go into a zone
Taking it to some motherfuckers domes
'Cause it's on, I will rock until I'm gone
Filling my body with lead, clutching chrome
Take it to your gut, take it to your chest
I be more provoking when I'm smoking sess
And we getting stronger, hope you got a vest
Already got them MACs, already got them TECs
Served a few dimes, Beans got pearl
Legendary, we on top of the world
How could you haters think we can be done?
Hold it down because we are champions

[Chorus: DJ Clue]
We are the champions, my friend
And we'll keep on fighting to the end
We are the champions, we are the champions
No time for losers 'cause we are the champions (Yeah)
Of the world

[Outro: DJ Clue]
Dame Dash presents the Dream Team