[Intro: Travie McCoy]
Travie! (Uh-oh)
Pete, thought I told you
What up, Hemmy? I see you!
[Verse 1: McCoy]
I've had the world at arm's length from the get-go
This ain't an arms race, it's Apocalypto
The industry's a target, I suggest these labels get low
On top of that, this track is cracked like burnt Brillo (damn)
Consider me the beast of East Eleventh
VIP, all day, AK47
If words is weapons, then get to steppin'
My arsenal's enough to send Hell's Angels to Heaven
I'm cool as the Fonz, and deadly as Charles Bronson
I'm Gonzo, you can call me Travie S. Thompson
Go 'head, and you can choose a similar path
But don't gas yourself up like Sylvia Plath, jeez
Watch Travie take the title with ease
You want a verse, please, I wouldn't bless you if you sneezed
(Achoo!) Pardon me, I'm allergic to bullshit
Got a God complex with a full clip, pow!
[Verse 2: Tyga]
The leader, man; Tyga-man make you leave your man
Ladies man take your mate
Literally, this song got me checking out my range
With no piff involved, my swag flyer than a plane
With the unruly attitude; ignorant, arrogant dude
Excuse me, I'm only seventeen (that's my age)
"You're excused, I like your honesty, honestly
You're more mature than the average teen" (oh, shah)
"And uh, your label family? You must have a team" (yeah)
Decaydance, preferably, that'll be next for me (hint-hint)
The rest'll be history, plat-i-um until they stop listening
Then your baby's back like ribs (ribs)
I know you've been missing me, I almost forgot to mention it
Ever heard a sound like this? (wow!)
[Pre-Chorus: Patrick Stump]
This ain't a scene, it's god-damn arms race!
This ain't a scene, it's god-damn arms race!
This ain't a scene, it's god-damn arms race!
I'm not a shoulder to cry on, but I digress
[Chorus: Stump]
I’m a leading man
And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate
I’m a leading man
And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate
[Verse 3: Kanye West]
Now I don't know what the hell this song is talkin' bout
Do you?
She said "Yeah, I been spendin' all day tryna figure that out"
You too?
The arms race made 'em raise they arm
And race straight to the top; Who knew? (who knew?)
Right now they got that number one spot
Do you want that? (want that?) Me too
One thing I gotta call out, boy, take a look at Fall Out Boy
Since they ain't black, when they get money they don't ball out, boy
They just buy tight jeans till their nuts hang all out, boy
They figure 'Ye dress tight so we gonna dress tighter
He dress white so we gone dress whiter
So in spite of anything you might've
Seen or heard, this scene occurred, word
[Chorus: Stump]
I’m a leading man (I'm a leading man)
And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate
I’m a leading man
And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate
[Verse 4: Paul Wall & Skinhead Rob]
Ha, come on, expensive taste, we up in a arms race
Big money, big crib, big Cadillac (sho')
Big daddy, boy, I cop big dro sacks (that's right)
Paper stack, big ring, big bling-bling (c'mon)
Try to take big chain, big bang-bang (pow!)
I'm going (whoa), I'm going (whoa), I'm motherfucking gone
Ain't no signs that I'm slowing though I'm knowing that I'm wrong
Bring it on, out to get it, I need cash by the stacks
I need a new pair of Stacys and a dash for the 'Lac, jack
Ha, hear that? Top back [?] grill (grill)
Coming down on the spiderweb chrome wheels (trill)
First place in the stunting race, top notch (ha)
Paint drip-drop, flip-flop, strapped with a Glock
Live every day like it's my last one; maybe it is
And ain't no morrows in my world of sorrow; maybe in his
I break ribs, break laws, break jaws at most
I still stick to the coast, hold up and reload
OH!
[Verse 5: Lupe Fiasco]
There's an arms race, like I'm runnin' on my hands
A dance marathon on my napalms, and
Drop mine's first so that they bombs can't
And Glocks, lasers, missiles, beat rocks, paper, scissors
I built mine's big, better build yours bigger
Built mine's quick so I could kill yours quicker
The number one supplier, the world's largest equipper
The second smallest dier, best non-coexister
I pledge allegiance to gasoline and bulletproof limousines
And leans on the property of the poor
And every night, I pray to the Lords Of War
Every man and mac eleven
That all good child rebel soldiers go to AK-47 heaven
And a landmine in every playground that they step in
And you took the footage from the camera on the tips
Of our bullets, and record like former Darfur [push it]
[Chorus: Stump]
I’m a leading man
And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate
I’m a leading man
And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate
[Verse 6: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, it's Weezy, baby!
I am your arms dealer, I'm more like an armed dealer
Liter-rally, really, I don't get this song neither
But I'mma figure it out like a palm reader
And, since I be on TV, I turn it on to see me!
Hey, I'm so cool, even I wanna be me
That was totally off the subject
But for me, every song is like pussy so fuck it
Like Fresh, you dug it (you dug it, you dug it)
