Whoahhhhhhhhh, whoa
Ladies and gentlemen, you now rockin with the best
(Geah) Jersey City, stand up
Patterson, stand up
Off top.. Just Blaze!
[Joe Budden]
Hold up n***a, slow up n***a
Don't start a war unless your dough's up, n***a
Know what n***a? Joe's up n***a
Y'all shouldn't cry about it, grow up n***a
Guess what y'all? I know magic
I could make your pulse dissapear and no hat trick
d**h threats - it ain't phase me
When I bring the T-Mac through the Rucker y'all, it ain't Tracy
Sewed up n***a, low cut n***a
So keep talin bout your wrists froze up n***a
You might see 30 whips roll up n***a
We be at the pawn shop givin your Rol' up n***a
Just wanted to make that known, you seen _New Jersey Drive_
Round here, leave that Maybach home
Before we vick that homes, we be on y'all jerks
You'll find out the hard way if your On*Star works, cause
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I don't, need a reason to bust my guns
So don't, give me reason to bust my guns
You might, be the reason I bust my gun
(Pa-pow, pa-pow - pa-pow, pa-pow)
[Joe Budden]
'Til my day's up n***a, stay up n***a
Play Tony Montana, get your face cut n***a
That goes out to all of you play thug n***az
How you want it, long nose or the trey snub n***a?
Return and die dog, if I start clappin in your crib
Nah I ain't tryin to turn the lights off
Trapped on the chain, got the j**els and cape
Be like Jared, Subways made him lose his weight, but look
I'm bout gettin money for all races
Only oldie but goodie I know is small faces
Wait, make you sure you heard right; woulda been put the hit out
But I ain't tryin to get my third strike
Lace up n***a, say what n***a?
Your Maybelline raps that you make-up n***a
Wake up n***a, stakes up n***a
For all my locked-down and my cased-up n***az, cause
[Chorus]
[Joe Budden]
Who's that n***a? New cat n***a
Don't disrespect, don't do that n***a
Hate to hear the sound of the tool clap n***a
Dual strap n***a when I do black n***az
First hand with a three-eighty kickback
Brains on your lap dog, babysit that
Look, it's my turf, get up off the stoop now
I'm Omar Epps, who got the "Juice" now?
Street love n***a, G's up n***a
You lookin for a loan on your re-up n***a
Haters might wanna put hollows in ya
When you're young black spendin like a lotto winner y'know
I'm grown up now, I'm done with Jake
When I say pounds y'all I'm talkin bout London cake
I can serve it to you uncut or somethin baked
Hope you ready for me folks, cause I'm comin your way, cause
[Chorus] - fades out