[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
You can't be sane to be testin' me
You ain't nothin' but name in my recipe
I got four bars hotter than your "S"'s be
And I don't wanna hear your tape unless it's me
I'm like guns I smoke - excessively
To see me - you little more effort, b
I love money it'll probably be the death of me
And I don't need ya'll to ball, like a referee
You ain't impressin' me..
Dont stand next to me
One hit will have you buggin' like ecstasy
Don't be mad if the one that b*tch sweats is me
Cause she ain't ya b*tch if she having sex with me! (WHAT?)
Come on, b
Who the f*ck you tryna fool us?
I'll leave you with more bumps than a school bus
It's gon take the Riot squad to move us
Yeah, ya n*ggas got guns but do you bust?
I'm too much - I'm a tell the truth, you suck
Motha-f*ck classy , gimme two sl*ts...
And a few cups
Hurry up, Fill 'em up! You n*ggas for real or what?
Hustlers - we deal 'em up, You... couldn't kill a duck!
I'm the type to make it hot when you chillin', what?
My team will fill up an 18 wheeler truck
Hop out! Beat 'em down!
Hop in! Flee the town!
Now-a-days you need a pound
All you ain't gonna be around
Stop tryin' to be me, clown - You want the blood to drip?
Twenty four hours, I'm thuggin' the chrome rubber grip
And ya b*tch love the di*k - Now I'm tryna smother it
Playa, why'nchu c*m in it? - She don't want to cover it
Yeah, I'm on that gutter tip! f*ck around and sl*t a chick
See me in that butter kit, followed by another whip
Everybody rappin' now - I'm 'bout to let my mother spit
Brother spit - n*ggas tellin' on some undercover sh*t
Team got a lot of dough - You ain't gettin' none of it!
He blew? I gotta blow. - Flow got the sun in it!
Number 1-stunna sh*t - Gun gotta thunder kit!
I know you ain't come to flip - You know who I'm runnin' with?