Yeah, o all my killas and all my drug dealers
To the boys with the lawyers
And the ones with the public defenders
Philadelphia, pistol-veinniam, put ya bangers in the air

They say it's a recession cause coke prices done shot up
I wish I could get it for ten a key, but I'm not Buck
And yes my connect got planes, got trucks
Yup, he could bring it right to you if you cop up
But I ain't grindin' cause I ain't tryin' to get locked up
I was over the stove, but I'm closin' the shop up
I rap, but I spit crack so that's not much of a change
From movin' 'cain on the block, but
It's not illegal, people will still cock suck
Chicks will still hop on ya nuts if you got ya guap up
Them other rappers is pussy, them n***as is not tough
And all they sell you is garbage they red foxed up
The hustla is on top, but that's not luck
Every bar raw when I spit it it rock up
You got guts, don't get 'em cut out yo stomach, n***a
Don't go for it on fourth down, punt it n***a
Before you get head hunted, n***a
I could probably shoot the wings off a fly, you don't want it, n***a
I'm a O.G, you a H.O.E
You probably couldn't even beat Angelina Jolie
Ayo, I dropped my first album in '03
It's almost '09, Swizz, it's showtime
Every day I write more rhymes
Smokin' weed, I call styles P cause it'll blow yo mind
With no wine sometimes I do magic tricks
I can make yo head disappear when the 'matic spit
I fuck with the yard, but we ain't on no faggot shit
He'll straight lay you out on some craft mattic shit
You ain't never bag a brick, you ain't never serve a fiend
You got shot, but you never been to a murder scene
That mean you never pulled a trigga with ya index
You probably never even killed more than two insects
I heard ya last couple songs and I ain't impressed
Yall betta call it off cause y'all n***as fallin' off
I'm on fire like a Molotov
Cocktail, when I rock a lot of jews like the Holocaust
Yeah, I wear a lot of chains like slavery
If you ain't talkin' money what the fuck you gon' say to me?
Not a damn thing, man, I’m the damn king
And the damn champ with the damn belt and the damn ring
I hold it down for my n***as in the damn bing
Like my man crutch, my man luck, and my man sing
I do my damn thing, I’m on another level now
I'm tryna crossover, but still hold the ghetto down
Carmello told me to settle down
But to tell you the truth I'm in the booth with the metal now
It's like I can't put the metal down
Cause I'm a gun fanatic, but you ain't nothing but a fuckin' faggot
Yo best verse ain't better than my worst rap
I became the best rapper when I wrote my first rap
I murked that, chalk it up
[Hook]
Them shook
Them cats don't clap gats, them n***as straight puss
They scared to death, you see how they look?

[Outro]
You could sell white cooked up and raw
There's numerous ways you could hustle to earn yours
Boys get shot, locked down, and turn broads
Them n***as is not real, them n***as straight frauds
You not a crook, boy, you straight shook, boy