[Intro] Warm it up, real quick Let's warm it up: microwave Shit 'bout to get hot: Summer I don't know if they ready for this: virgin Yo
[Verse 1] The bars show you mad struggle Along with detailed scriptures of my past trouble That’s why they try to keep me quiet with a bad muzzle Can’t take the same leaps and bounds as me When they lack the hustle and the calf muscle Words from a legend speaking from the heart Said, if you going to war, weaponry is a start Do your dirt all by your lonely, let it be in the dark You givin' birds bread then let it be in the park, Joey Tip me wrong, many mourn when the semi’s warm 'Bout my bread, so I spot it if a penny’s gone And I’ll bet, learned that from the Nets If you tryna be a billionaire get rid of any Thorn 'Cause you’ll get fucked if they shoot you, emptied on It’s just they way of making a mini porn I watch my haters get sick It’s that hard living in my shadow, get off my silhouette’s dick Tailor-made suits, double breast fit Set trip, get your name on the next clip Sometimes before you can add, gotta minus (Talk to 'em) Some of y’all don’t get the math or the science Means I’m aiming for wealth, some say Sky’s the limit, I say that's short-changing yourself So uh-uh, uh-uh, y’all ain't the same as me I get bread, you lose Jackson’s: Jermaine Dupri BS about Joe, refrain it, please You’ll just untame a beast, he just became unleashed All who defamed are deceased, so the topic should pass An assembly line would show 'em I'm not in they class (Oh) Had some a'ight jams, them fans came and left And you ain’t know they was one night stands Let 'em testify, witnesses, hearin' is indicative Niggas is sick of it, let it go, get a grip
[Chorus] I think I’m Sug’ Ray,Ali Joe Fraiz’, who the fuck gon' stop me? He think he Holyfield, Iron Mike Fo’ fifth let him feel what the iron like I think I’m Mayweather, Pacquiao Screamin', "Money ain’t a thing!" Pullin' stacks out I think I’m Cotto, Shane Mosley Slow death to anyone who oppose me
[Verse 2] Son (Sun), I’ma always shine, yellow Think I’m about to get up on that? Hell no Long as shorty keep my tip hard: shell toe Certain I’m a stick-to-the-script: velcro Springers, fakers, think that they just prospered Without being linked to the majors (Uh) My only response is the finger to haters Watch it get ugly, Mbenga, Lakers So when they ask how I feel about hip-hop I sighed and replied, "Take a lucky guess" Just being sincere, I ain’t talking pioneers When I tell dudes I don’t think that Dougie’s fresh Used to roll through the trenches, slept on cold benches Holds on my expenses, smoke 'til I was senseless Now the flow’s so relentless Fuck CDs, should be sold in syringes (Oh) I can’t explain it, they love the sound Subtle with the pound, you don’t want trouble, clown (Here we go) If I’m at the bar ordering a couple rounds I’m in between two birds like a double down Where I’m from they cock and shoot like it’s all logical Send a lot of work to them hospitals Dress the AK up 'fore they pop at you Handguns, night scope, call it the Chopper suit So if you tired of all the wack dudes, call me in Rap historian, slash my class’s Valedictorian Your future’s at a stand still Must be a flat on that Delorean I tried tellin' 'em, "Concede, the deal's closed" They disagreed, they believed that they real close Tough guys turn talk show like Steve Wilko’s Scream "Fuck 'em!" Eat dildos with each pill dose All the rap dudes they got highly regarded Tell me they psyche might be slightly retarded Nowadays before the shows, I buy me a cartridge (Uh) Though them phony ass dudes ain't likely to start with Peepin' how the vets wanna stop me (Put your) Money where your mouth is: Ted DiBiase And he won’t be able to reach for a biscuit With O’s on his head like a B-More Fitted Uh, black hoody and black tux Tearin' stacks up, with a model and her rack tucked Gettin' my Extreme Makeover on Knock that bitch down and build her back up (Oh) Uh, think twice before you act up (Oh) Around flames, wrong time to be gassed up (Oh) You never heard blowin' smoke from a grass hut Nine times out of ten, it’ll be your last puff
[Chorus] I think I’m Sug’ Ray,Ali Joe Fraiz’, who the fuck gon' stop me? He think he Holyfield, Iron Mike Fo’ fifth let him feel what the iron like I think I’m Mayweather, Pacquiao Screamin', "Money ain’t a thing!" Pullin' stacks out I think I’m Cotto, Shane Mosley Slow death to anyone who oppose me