[Intro]
Aiyyo check this verse out
My platinum chains, my big willy, my Mercedes-Benz

That's right? {*laughing*}

[Verse 1]

Are you a gun busting ^!$$%? (Buh-Buh-Buh-Buh)
Are you a (*##$ baggin ^!$$%? (Whu-Whu-Whu-Whu)
You got ice and ya chain and ya chong wit your Rolly on

Not just any Rolly but you bought the most expensive one.
Hey take ya car keys*Jingle Jingle* to ya class E
Big body be for your CD- I mean, DVD

For ya T.V in ya head beats, in ya back seat
Haha, y'all think I'm mean
Runnin round talking bout the %#@! that you be talking bout

How you the drug game sold up and locked down
John Gotti got life and I'm sure he never told nobody
Boy lets put on an album so the $#&@in feds could buy it

You shouldn't be shouting out them bodies you buried
Nine millimeters and Techs and them AK47's
Illegal weapons you talking bout you snucked in the club

You got so many guns
Tell me why you rappers steady getting robbed
I got two more verses for you (huh)

this ain't just to an individual person
These questions here for all of ya


[Hook]
I can write a song without ice, (*##$es, and cars
can you mutha $#&@as do dat? (DO DAT?!)

I can blaze a track without bustin a gat at a cat
can you mutha $#&@as do dat? (DO DAT?!)


[Chorus x2]
Yoouuu gon' have to change up all yo %#@! in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to pumpin this

And they start to finding out what what rappin really is

[Verse 2]

Verse 2, now that you know what the song's about
Yall probably cussin me out
You gonna listen to it anyhow

Lets talk about somebody like Eskimo
Rentin they jewelry from Jacob and don't think we know
You got a platinum piece but your chain is plain white gold

After the video it got to go back to the store
That's Crazy, talkin bout some %#@! you don't own
Oughta be ashamed of yourself

Yo, don't they call that frontin, holmes?
You ain't Jigga, ^!$$%
Nor can you spin like Puff

And got a cash money deal
So what's your Big Willy talk for?
I get so excited man, your track got me leapin

Then you start rhyming and *Yawn* I get sleepy

[Chorus]


[Hook]


[Verse 3]
It's a sad situation, record labels buggin out
Cuz they star artist done ran out of %#@! to talk about (Whoa!)

Yeah that's crazy and you think about it baby
Only thing that changed in yo rhyme was ya date "2000"
Oh that %#@! is hot, put that on the album

You heard it with my man kick that %#@! (??)
Loud and proud, ^!$$% swear he be throwin down
Arthur lose his voice every time he opens his mouth

I oughta hold up a signs and boycott they $$# right
No more mutha$#&@in sound alikes!
Sound-a-like (Mobb Deep!) Sound-a-like (Jay-Z!) Sound-a-like (B.I.G.!)

And we don't need no more please!

[Chorus]