[Intro: Juelz Santana]
Yeah, uh-ooo! (Come on, come on)
Roll with me, it's Santana
I'd like to welcome y'all (yeah) to the great
Fuck with ya boy! (Once again) Zeek!

[Verse 1: Juelz Santana]
Now I got more than my swagger back
Listen here homie
Mr. Mick Jagger's back (uh-oo!)
Young Zab of rap
Only difference is this Judah'll shoot ya
Then get back to rappin'
Traffick crack through half Manhat-tan
Make stacks and stacks and that's a fact, man
Y'all can't fuck with me
Baby girl I drag my nuts for free
Comfortably
And ya know I got my pimpin' together
Got my game, got my 'cane, got my limpin' together
Shit, bitch you better get your switchin' together
Cause this back-hand'll get you together, hope you know that
And sometime I can't belive my n***as
Still in all, I'll give my arm just to feed my n***as
Eat, don't stop homie, breathe my n***as
I need y'all more than y'all ever need me my n***as
[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
This is for all my n***as on the block that's pumpin'
I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!)
All my homies on the block with somethin'
Hold it down I think the cops is comin (Squalie!)
For all my chicks on the strip that switch
Be easy, I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!)
All my ladies who boost for higher
Prada, Gucc' attire watch who's behind ya (Squalie!)

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
Yo, we livin the life of Loca-vida, coke and cheeba
Drive-by blow smoke on the policia
Like fuck 'em, I got no love for 'em (Squalie!)
But I'm tired of runnin' from (Squalie!)
Duckin' from (Squalie!)
Shit, and we ain't do nothin' to (Squalie!)
It's payback we buckin' at (Squalie!)
No more gettin' searched, frisked for nothin' by (Squalie!)
Ay, so sell ya pack
Sell ya crack like when dickens was near
Juelz Santana Dickens is here, yeah
So Zeke is ya rollin' with me?
This the theme song, homie, fuck the police
We back at it, our crack habit is that drastic
Measures we takin' 'em, makin' we'll clap at ya
Peel off on dirt bikes and raptors
Squirt pipes at bastards, y'all can't fuck with me
[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
This is for all my n***as on the block that's pumpin'
I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!)
All my homies on the block with somethin'
Hold it down I think the cops is comin (Squalie!)
For all my chicks on the strip that switch
Be easy, I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!)
All my ladies who boost for higher
Prada, Gucc' attire watch who's behind ya (Squalie!)

[Verse 3: J.R. Writer]
Hey ma, its J.R. and L's
It ain't hard to tell
We them n***as in Mauri and Karl Lagerfeld
With that hard to sell
That ain't hard to sell
And a gun that'll hit you from far as hell
You quick to flash, we'll whip yo' ass
Couple shots hit your glass, dip shit ya whip'll crash
I got the sickest past
Stay skippin' class, pitchin' hash
All day, stood there flippin' halves
When I heard (Squalie!)
I dished and dashed, ditched the hash
Park, neutral, first gear, hit the gas
Now we rich with cash
And when I hear (Squalie!)
I sit and laugh, dawg you kiss his ass
Cooked more 'caine, push off dames
While you dumb n***as stand there, and look all lame
I done popped and took off chains
Now Ivory dump ice on me like my team won a football game
[Chorus: Juelz Santana]
This is for all my n***as on the block that's pumpin'
I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!)
All my homies on the block with somethin'
Hold it down I think the cops is comin (Squalie!)
For all my chicks on the strip that switch
Be easy, I think the cops is comin' (Squalie!)
All my ladies who boost for higher
Prada, Gucc' attire watch who's behind ya (Squalie!)