[Verse One: Rock]
Out on bail, fresh out of jail, Brownsville scheming
Y'all wanna see me up north, but I'm down the hill creeping
N***as keeping and keeping they beef, wit they cops still singing
I'm getting my gwap, still eating
Loudest one in the flock, still screaming
Pass me the pot, I'm still chiefin'
And I'm pacing over you, just a thief on the weekend
Beefing with me, will get you bleeding in a heap with some feces
Sucker MC's, sucker MC, when they run wit they feet, bitches
Well, kinda, big Rock's tougher than leather
Wit slum to get set up, he's dumping forever
The king of pot, there is none higher
You nickel bag smoker, need to call me sire
With Reggie Miller to the Isaac Hayes, straight fire
Who said it, just ight, this bitch a liar
I'm fixing to Ike her, I gets it rock and ready rock
Rock filthy but Rock, not guilty, y'all feel me

[Verse Two: Sean Price]
I carry a gun, pa, barbarian thundarr
Switchblade, bitch made, n***as like en garde
All white Nikes wit a knife to cut krills
Bernadette butt like Buffy when back pocket of bills
I ain't got mills, but I got a couple of thou'
I ain't got a gun, but I bet I fuck you up now
Fucking with I, have you n***as touching the sky
Wings on your back, Kanye singing the track
Slinging my crack, muthafucka, shopping a demo
I pop at your temple, muthafucka sing about that
Listen, fuck a hip hop, I'll take ya wrist watch
Put the gun to your tongue and make you lick shots
Make a pit stop, by the piff spot
You wanna take a pull? N***a kick rocks
[Verse Three: Rock]
I'm like that's not a gun, this is a gun, B
Who wanna romp with me, the Rockadile Dundee
I rule the underground, I'm Pimp C, Bun B
Lord Jazz Do-It-All and Mr. Funkee
Mr. Bummy FlyJab, some of ya'll mad
I can scrape up one twenty five cash
I had too much dirt to dump on you n***as
Nothing in the world was gon' keep me from crushing you bitches

[Verse Four: Sean Price]
Yeah two in your dome rhyme, funeral home time
Announce death to you, I'm Phil Rizzuto with mine
This Puerto Rican bitch called me papi chulo, but I'm
Not with the gwala shit, fill the hollow tip in the nine, I'm
Nice with a nine, I'm nice with the rhyme
52 block your snot box, Mike in his prime
Line for line, top five dead or alive
Two of them dead, and soon as the other three die
I'm number one!