You know I really don't get it
Mother$#&@ers

Act like they want me in the game one minute
Out the game the next minute
$#&@ do ya'll want?



First you want me in

Then you want me out
(Ya'll ^!$$%z is too fickle)First you want me in
Then you want me out



You a hop, skip, and a jump

From poppin' %#@! to the one
Ridin' the dick of the one
Who rides sick wit' a young

Fly chick in a gun (gun!)
Inside the whip when he come
Shine lyrically dope

My ability strokes the Todd Bridges of dose
A fly mix with a toast
Of my ^!$$%z who jump (jump!)

From my side to run in with my enemies (punks!)
Keep on temptin' me
I'm just a hop, skip and a jump

From goin' ballistic, so ^!$$% go and diss if you want
Go and mention me homie, you gon' eventually jump
You gon' switch when it comes to that chrome click

And then one of your own hit
You just a hop, skip and a jump (jump!)
From not listenin' to me like my %#@! don't exist

Til I spit and you jump back on the dick of the one
Accurate wit' a gun
Mathematician wit' funds

Minus a fifth of that rum
Divide it with the hunger
Times it with the times you fronted on my %#@!, on my dick

If one of them lines stick to your brain
You now witness the pain
Of my addition of rain

The sun without the distance between
None of what God gave you
The shade is now taken away, today



Do you want me in?

Do you want me out?
(Just like #~!!@)
(You remind me of a cunt)

Do you want me in?
Do you want me out?



I'm just as underground as it gets
You can come down in this ditch

I'm hidden a mile deep
The mummy without stitchin' but I don't sleep, I pump
Without snitchin, I'm simply about gettin' this money

I don't just dive in to what would be my end if I jump
The politics of this game
^!$$%z be followin' names

They ride with who the hottest, and criticizin' the same
You lil' Nas's and Jay-Z's, we got on the scene
Not only make me wait for the remix, but sick

Make me squeamish
Make me think later that one of ya'll can be who the fake king is
One of ya'll can be on the good label of Push

Five mics and a Source cuz of who pulled a favor
Arrogant as a $#&@, and you may have been just as humble
To now fussin' bout who, sharin' the cover this month

Man please
This ^!$$%'s diseased comin' wit' better throwaway rhymes
Then every one of your keepers, punks (punks!)

Do you listen at all?
It's fools that's winnin battles bought by the label, on cable
And never gettin' the call
Ten tapes at a time, you send it off to the label
And wait at the mailbox

While they make up they minds


Do you want me in? (Yeah)
Do you want me out?

(Ya'll try me, knowin' that ya'll ^!$$%z is punks)
First you want me in
Then you want me out
(Yeah!)
(Is this what you want?)