(Verse : Hit-Boy)
All these ^!$$%s really know my at bat average, ridiculous rap patterns
And $#&@ what you know, this Youngen got the coldest beats

All my old hoes laying in the coldest sheets
Even if they married they still can't get over me
You 0 for 3, I'm shooting a hundred right from the field now

I'm just a Fresh Prince, buzzing like Uncle Phil's child
And I Will style, peace to all my Hilary's
Stuffin' money in banks, hitting Marilyn's like a Kennedy

And if you feeling me, just let me know it
'Cos I just set the stage and get these words off like a poet
I'm Robert Frost cold on these hoes, I just give them the

Edgar Allen Poe up
Sippin something expensive and party 'till they throw up
Hold up

All my ^!$$%s roll up, until the cops show up
Her momma say momma's son is a millionaire?
And just for that, throw your ones up in the air

This is Freshman Adjustment meets Late Registration
Connected up with the kings all 'cos of Ricky's relations
Tell the ^!$$% I've been studying since I started creating

Now all these ^!$$%s is hating, waiting, judging, debating
Tryin' to charge me with a flagrant, but I will not stop
They tryin' to Derek Fisher the boy, but I will not flop

Instead I take it bassline, like Kobe
And I play my own drums and basslines, you know me, homie
I'm getting courted by the bosses

The Ye's, the Hov's, the Puff's, and all them ^!$$%'s who's notorious for flossing
Known to be in places these ^!$$%s ain't never heard of
I $#&@ed women and watched thrones up in the Mercer

Sign my signature in cursive for them incidentals
Then we got $#&@ed up off that Ace listening to instrumentals
I came a long way from that place where ^!$$%s can't wait to get you

And now you copped your favorite mag and I'm in the latest issue
And all the (*##$es I never could bag, they steadily claiming they miss you
And it's a shame when I get the low-fade

Have all these women feeling like the fourth grade
Crushin on a Youngen, 'cos they know I'm so paid
Once I get the digits consider me so laid

And none of this %#@! is fiction cos really I don't play
I changed up my old ways, to kill 'em like OJ
Remind them of a young Mike, fresh J's and a gold chain

I stay tailored like politicians, but $#&@ like I'm out on bond
Women catching feelings trying to be my first son mom
But I'm catching millions tying to be the first one on

And my CD, do you feel me, if you coming, come on
IE ^!$$%, I'm a IE ^!$$%
Went from Colton High School to the widescreen ^!$$%

Couldn't walk in my shoes or jog by me ^!$$%
Since I play by my rules I acquired these figures
Now a ^!$$% got enough to supersize, ride with him

No surprise, all these Benjamins inside my denim
Couldn't be the ^!$$% sitting on the sideline benching
Open minds will be the ones to oblige my vision

Televise my mission, on channel 5, see me in the news
They monitor my every move, wanna see me lose
Hear the %#@! I spit like ?what the $#&@ has gotten into you??

I got 'em tuned in like a Jay-Z interview