[Intro] Ay yo, yo You see that n***a over there with that clean a** ride? (Hell yeah) Goddamn, is them--them Daytons? (My, what?) My n***a, this sh** is funky fresh, n***a (God, aww man) n***a, with the--with the fat a** watch? (k**in' it) Damn n***a, that--man, what? [Verse 1: Julius] Now who was this n***a always rollin' around in a brand new Caddie? Attracting all the attention and b**hes, and all his raps is cavi- I mean he's the dopest, gel is funky, fly and fresh Walking around like he's the king of the jungle, I mean lion-esque Now that's the type of dude I wanna be like Adidas jacket, on his back is three stripes not three strikes He's making money but no slave to the dope game No noose around his neck unless you count the rope chain Okay, I'm young with an impressionable mind So, "Should I sell dope?" becomes a question at some times And I'm broke, so I'm hot for real But I see Erick and Parrish that's making dollars So I say to myself, "You gots to chill" I look around and all this 'caine is selling But rappers rich too, Big Daddy Kane is selling The DMC molded my mind, no one can do it better than a rapper So what I'm trynna do is tell ya... [Hook 2×] Dope dealers ain't sh** When I grow up I wanna be a Rap star Spit rap bars, driving all the fast cars Yeah I see them n***as selling on the curb But I'd rather be peddling them words Dope dealers ain't sh** Rap n***as I look up to But them older n***as tell me I should hustle Everywhere I look, its n***as giving crack to fiends But I want my picture in them magazines