k**a-Kc: (I heard Sam was going solo) God damn, you didn't know so, well I can blast fast so freak an ill type of slow flow. I'm hitting harder than Berry Boss so check the golden child, throwing it to your ear-hole, got you going buck wild. But truck-tracks, rhymes all day, breaking off n***az proper, did dirt, did West cause I clown coppers (yeah). Do hip-hop, rap, compose 'em most, I couldn't see me, mad advanced and my sk**s are all about the dollar bills. Obie Trice: From Pittsburgh to Cali dropping bombs like that, was on the D.L. with the squad so I couldn't hold it back. Black, I regulate I buzz a big gate figure, mobbing with the ill n***a, with his finger on a bigger trigger. Serving all (saps), hitting sevens on the (simps), making do', eating shrimps, locing with some real pimps (yeah).
So peep game, best believe I love my peeps Stat Quo: that's why I make the type of music you can pump in your jeeps (that's right). So buck my sound, I put it down for the underground, I got the women cause I'm slamming, jamming. Got it going on this time for this new producer to rise, so open your eyes, I think you better recognize. Dmx: We back, we mack, stay blunted Knee pads, yo hoes they wanted Penthouse two o'clock eleven hundred It aint no fun if I can't reroute your hoes in this direction Swerve in the intersection, I'm done she restin No question, done session Home wreckin, Doc motherf**in Dre no guessin Nothin less than, I mess when I'm s**in Bang on the block Even Asian b**hes like to bang co*k Draws drop, she bunny hops On it like a pro, she comes out the clothes