[Intro: The Game]
Dre, I saved hip-hop

[Intro: (Junior Reid) and Jim Jones]
(Blood) Uh-huh, Jones
(Blood hunt) Dipset, Byrdgang, bitch!
Ha, you know what it is
When you see me two twelvin' you, homie (that's right)
You fuck n***as keep triple ninin' (Eastside)
Have some integrity, bitch
'Fore it get tech-mangy out here, smell me? (Ballin'!)
(One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood, one blood)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
(Ballin'!)
Peace Blood, peace Almighty (Peace Blood!)
We all thugs and we run the streets nightly (Eastside!)
And get my lawyer; why? 'Cause I ain't coppin' out (Nope!)
And I fuck with B-boys that bring them choppers out
One shot of that'll havе the boys bring the coppers out
And wе ballin', foreign toys what we hoppin' out (Flossing!)
My fair Eastside, where we ride
And we all fly high in the Lear G5s (Ballin'!)
So twist your fingers up and bang, motherfucker, bang! (Nine-Trey!)
Get your money up, this 'caine is what we fuckin' slang (Gotta hustle!)
And Nine-Trey is what I fuckin' claim (Ugh!)
It's Dipset Capo, the don of the Byrdgang (Eastside!)
[Verse 2: Fabulous]
(What it look like?) All I say at most
Shooters waitin' on the word, "Just say it, Los!"
I let these n***as live (Yes!), I told 'em pull the plug
Have them goons pullin' gloves, leave the room full of slugs (Yes!)
Catch me traffickin' on maroon-colored dubs (Yes!)
Couple Africans with balloons full of drugs (Yes!)
If they like me, tell 'em line up
While I sit behind ten and point 'em out like a line-up

[Verse 3: Clipse]
Red rum, redrum, such power in the tongue
Never in the wildest, wasn't talkin' to them
Style on n***as but feel it to the numb
Japanese thread, brought flavor to these bums
Consider me the savior, look what the Lord gave ya
My celebrated presence like the return of Rayful
Frolic in the snow so playful
And revivin' the track like we flowin' through jumper cables
What duo you know
Get XXL kudos while coppin' off Julio?
Yeah, classic shit, we mastered this
Left for dead, I'm back, I'm Lazarus

[Verse 4: Juelz Santana]
Mic check, one two, one two (Check!)
I'm strapped, you strapped, let's play two-on-two (Let's go!)
You're eyein' us in the iron bus (Boom!)
Leak you, two liters of red juice: Hawaiian Punch (Ha!)
So what you boys gon' do to me? (What?)
I'm born street, your life's sweet: MTV's Laguna Beach (Damn!)
Mama told me not to play with fire
But she never told me I would grow to be a lighter
(Damn)
Now all I gotta do is speak and they burn
It's cremation no urn
How you claim to be a hustler but don't earn?
You need to be whack, and that's stat
[Hook: The Game]
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix (Remix!)


[Verse 5: Nas]
Game got at me about the remix, it's a honor, my n***a
I made rap one blood, Nasir signin' with Jigga
I got rappers gettin' mad at me
I got these new jack rappers tryin' to clap at me
I got these corny wannabe diss song kings on the radio
Talk about how they gon' spray and take me away
But I'm the true living legend, I'm not to be questioned
Have your whole hood holla shit about my progression

[Verse 6: Jadakiss and Styles P]
One blood, we used to the spillin'
Came from the hood so we used to the killin'
Used to the black males makin' crack sales in the building
How else you get the Benz with the suede on the ceiling?
Blood in, Blood out, me and homie back-to-back
Boatload of work and we about to pitch a shut out
I'm New York's king, I'm New York's hardest n***a
Anything in between's a motherfuckin' target, n***a
D-B-L-O-C-K, he spray
The hawk'll find a nice home right where your cheeks stay
We got a mean team, hip-hop's dream team
Them boys is only in the projects on green screen
Yeah, no security, I'll put you on the respirator
I'm the bomb; I'm the motherfuckin' detonator
One dutch, one bud, one burner, one slug
Want a couple casualties, but we'll settle for just...
[Verse 7: Fat Joe]
All these n***as wanna front trill with them stiff faces
'Til them n***as lyin' still up in stiff cases
With the Styrofoam and embalmin' fluid
I been gone too long, and I'm dying to lose it
Somebody go and get this n***a a pine box
And I ain't just talkin' 'bout a measly nine shots
Yeah I'm chopper-happy and my wrist loose
Call me Goldie, I'll smack a bitch too

[Verse 8: N.O.R.E.]
New York, get the blood money (Dirty cash!), still sweet
We the Black Wall Street by the swap meet with heat
Def Jam, they gon' flop him
And Reggaeton ain't hot in the building no more
It's OKAY! I get it poppin'
Back to the forest trees for deep, these little mes
Who took believers a opportunity to breathe
And you ain't gotta go overseas to see Iraq shit
You can come to LeFrak, Queens and get jacked quick

[Hook: The Game]
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix (Remix!)

[Verse 9: Ja Rule]
N***a, one Crip, one Blood, L.A., New York
The Game, the Rule, one love, guns up
Hands down, can't touch the flow, it's a bit much
The style, wanna keep up? I'd advise you to speed up
With money movin' like coke these days gotta re-up
G up, cop some heaters and dare a n***a to act up
You see us in dual-seaters and throw it up
It's all hood, n***as, rep your sets if you Cuz or (Blood!)
N***as, we all bleed!
These n***as can't breathe!
Only because the guns are drawn and aimed to part
N***as that got bullets with names on them
Want 'em? Come get 'em! N***as, y'all know where to get at me
Look at me, now pass me, maybe you can be half me
You bastards, I'm laughin', bullets stickin' in family
Who sadly gets torn between one Crip and one (Blood!)

[Outro: Ja Rule]
Y'all n***as know me, haha, yeah!