"Yeah..
Fuck, this one's for the rats..
Hmphm, yeah"

[Verse 1]
Turn it up !
Go wake your neighbors
And tell 'em if they want it down
They gon' have to make us
We teenagers, Young troublemakers
You wanna start off on a new page then page us
'Cause I ain't callin' you
No I ain't botherin'
I'd rather cooperate with this blunt 'till I can't operate
And walls start to oscillate
Come on man concentrate
I know the room spinnin' but you gotta keep it scholarly
Like Socrates, all about philosophy
So when I say I'm chillin' I mean kickin' it like soccer teams

Honestly
Who fuckin' standing next to me
Skinny dude, no shirt, goldchain, tiny jeans
And these are just a couple things, yeah

'Cause you can't take the rest of me
They raps are [?]
I got the game's recipe
So they be picking through my garden
Lookin' for the best of beats
They thought that THAT was the best of me
The day they get the best from me is when I'm droppin' CD's
Compact Disks, and in store signings
Tell 'em barricade the sidewalk in case any violence
Breaks out like children cryin', "oh, mine" whining
Put the pacifier back in, tell 'em fucking track in
I don't fuck around nor ever am I beating
I get straight to the point like winnings on tv
"Bob what we got for 'em ?
A brand new flat screen"
(very subtle off voice)
And a trip to uh..
Jamaica