[Intro]
Ay yo, yo
You see that n***a over there with that clean ass ride? (Hell yeah)
Goddamn, is them--them Daytons? (My, what?)
My n***a, this shit is funky fresh, n***a (God, aww man)
N***a, with the--with the fat ass watch? (Killin' it)
Damn n***a, that--man, what?

[Verse 1: Julius]
Now who was this n***a always rollin' around in a brand new Caddie?
Attracting all the attention and bitches, and all his raps is cavi-
I mean he's the dopest, gel is funky, fly and fresh
Walking around like he's the king of the jungle, I mean lion-esque
Now that's the type of dude I wanna be like
Adidas jacket, on his back is three stripes not three strikes
He's making money but no slave to the dope game
No noose around his neck unless you count the rope chain
Okay, I'm young with an impressionable mind
So, "Should I sell dope?" becomes a question at some times
And I'm broke, so I'm hot for real
But I see Erick and Parrish that's making dollars
So I say to myself, "You gots to chill"
I look around and all this 'caine is selling
But rappers rich too, Big Daddy Kane is selling
The DMC molded my mind, no one can do it better than a rapper
So what I'm trynna do is tell ya...
[Hook 2×]
Dope dealers ain't shit
When I grow up I wanna be a Rap star
Spit rap bars, driving all the fast cars
Yeah I see them n***as selling on the curb
But I'd rather be peddling them words
Dope dealers ain't shit
Rap n***as I look up to
But them older n***as tell me I should hustle
Everywhere I look, its n***as giving crack to fiends
But I want my picture in them magazines