(Verse 1)
Freakin' beats like I'm in between the sheets
Call me Ron Isley though I keep it more discreet
On the low from police when I'm creepin' through the streets
‘Cause I got a lotta citations for my speed
But I feel the need to push the limit for this paper
Goin hard for the chips like an LA Laker
Not a faker- you rarely see me stuntin'
And when I get my money right you'll never see me frontin' (nah)
Cuz the dough can't change me
Just make you more of what you already are
And I been a superstar, ‘cause you already hate me
I'm shining light in the dark, like the moon and the stars
Blame me, don't respect it, forget about our presence
Criticize my whole crew, talk sh** about our records
And while you makin' fake blogs, stuntin' on the web
You just building on the buzz, helping bake our bread
(Chorus) (x2)
Never had a lotta chicks, but I always been a mack
Never kept a lotta friends, real n***as had my back
When you get the Benjamins, people change the way they act
I ain't worried ‘bout them, I'm tryna' count stacks (2x) [I'm bout to count stacks]
When you see A-Roy ain't a damn thing changed
You never really knew me if you think I'm playing games
I used to be shy, never thought I had the juice
Always had to prove I wasn't scared up in school
Fine a** yellow bones never really cared
Until I hit seventeen and got the waves in my hair
Voice got deep, Polo jeans had the crease
Pops pa**ed the truck keys, now the honeys wanna stare
Nothing's changed, it's the same with this music
We started making moves everybody wants to prove they got sk**s
This ain't about sk**s, this is my life
I don't really have to rap, I already know I'm nice
But I'm a hip-hop head, I really love the culture
I love my rap music like she was a distant lover
I love the fashion, fresh kicks, fitted hats and
B-boys and b-girls grafitti taggin'
(Chorus x2)
Rappers claimin' that they ill, sick and retarded
Then my flow is like the pill, shot, antibiotic
I'm the opposite of wanna-bes claimin' true
How you real when all you do is copy other fools?
I see these clown boys all on the web, making videos lying in the bed
Talking this and that, but that ain't rap
If you wantin' some attention, I can understand
Just stop calling it hip-hop, you pansy pants
This jam is for the real, I know you lovin' me
A-Roy and S-M-G keep it s**a' free
It's a luxury to find a rapper such as me
Keep you “breakin' your neck” like Bussa Bus and D-R-E
I'm tryna' carry on tradition, listen
These beats and these rhymes, you don't wanna miss, and
As we making hits, we representin'
k**in' competition, it's a cinch man
(Chorus x2)