[Verse 1]
These n***as just hating they ain’t talking bout shit
I’m a grown ass man, I flip my own bricks
I don’t need your help I can own my own dick
Ain’t no motherfucker help me write my rhymes
Ain’t no n***a pay for my studio time
See me at the top and want to claim my fame
N***a took my chain, yeah motherfucking right
You better off saying a n***a took my life
Want to assassinate my character but I ain’t acting
It ain’t adding up so you n***as subtracting
B.I.G. said it first: more money more problems
The why I see it more problems more money

[Hook x2]
I got the streets on lock
Atlanta on my back
I do it for the hood
You got a problem with that
Real n***a so this rap shit easy, when I speak
Theses n***as believe me
Cause bitch I’m Jeezy

[Verse 2]
Eyes wide shut, I don’t see these n***as
Cause deep in your heart you want to be me n***a
Want to stand in my shoes, want to fuck my hoes
Want to live my life, want to rock my shows
You young punks with your loose-ass lips
I keep an AR with them loose ass clips
What type of real n***a name himself after a bag
N***a you’s a ho, a Louis Vuitton fag
My name ain’t dick so keep it out your mouth
It is what it is look I am the south, that’s right
Big Mac you n***as small fries
You just another n***a I’m more like the franchise
[Hook x2]

[Verse 3]
I was born in the Field raised in Atlanta
Pop busted a nut here so I was made in Atlanta
Mat Lew died so I stayed in Atlanta
Had a plug on the squares got paid in Atlanta
Twenty-two’s on the two-door it sits so right
Ice tray on my wrist yea it shines so bright
Make moves in the day and I ball by night
9/11 Porsche I was on that flight
5’9, 6’1 I call em the twin towers
Had them on the triple stack
Hit em both in the shower
Pedal to the medal bout a buck eighty-five
Mr. 17.5 slow head well I drive, whassup

[Hook x2]