(feat. Hell Rell, Jim Jones, J.R. Writer)
|
|
[Cam'Ron]
|
See the problem is I ain't goin nowhere
|
Can shoot at me, can stab at me
|
Take your best shot (this is the remix)
|
Suck a dick no homo
|
DipSet, remix, let's go!
|
|
[Hell Rell]
|
My flow is novocaine, my bars is hurricanes (Katrina)
|
I got hell-a cain, mac in the melon range
|
Hop out and shells exchange
|
I wanna see these niggaz die die, make they mom feel hell-a pain
|
Walk around like I got a broom in my pants
|
Na that's a fuckin' A-K, heavy tool in my pants, damn
|
Man these cowards better stay in they lane
|
And if they ain't getting the picture, it ain't in the frame
|
VVS's stay in my chain (bling) they in my ring (There they go)
|
You must of wrote your will already if your sayin our names
|
Hell Rell, Mr. Ruger Ruger, I'm a shooter shooter
|
You hung with the girls you double dutch or hoola-hooper
|
Hop skip and jumpin, block clickin and jumpin
|
Glock clickin and dumpin, it's the mighty
|
|
[J.R. Writer]
|
Listen I'm quite known, nice chrome, a cyclone niggaz
|
Ya sight blown, Right-o, my white stones glitter
|
Left hand bling, the right one shiver
|
Stallion, medallion, a ice cold picture
|
The white stone flipper
|
That white tone, nights home, getting' rid of the weight like lipo mister
|
This psycho sicker
|
That ain't crackin' ya pimp, you got a rat as a friend like Mike on Thriller
|
This ain't nothing to me, a scrapper at its best
|
No rapper could impress, man I'm crack right out the jets
|
You rappin indirect
|
But it's lookin like a movie shoot
|
How they sendin all these damn actors at the set
|
|
[Jim Jones]
|
It goes get 'em daddy (Goonies)
|
Soul niggaz they sick and flabby, (they washed up)
|
Young fly rich and every nigga with me pack heat, (we ballin)
|
Somebody snappin pictures at me, (watch me)
|
Plus I know I got the F.B.I. sick of me
|
The cash the jewels and how we buy exquisite V's
|
Don't get ya brains fried to a fricassee
|
My vest and my heater, breath full of reefer
|
And ya boy stay fly like he was dressin for Easter
|
The big Pachorte, Capo the heavy
|
Packin 4-4 court case to drop on expressway
|
Its DipSet Byrdgang we fly high
|
And chart the G-4 we get high in the sky
|
|
[Cam'Ron]
|
I'm Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, Bob Backlund
|
Paul Akin, ha ha, who they think they car jackin
|
You dump and a dump, I slumped and I slump
|
They mad my car's like an elephant, the trunk in the front
|
See ya dude react, Hud six threw me back, a few they clapped
|
But I ate those, them shits is Scooby Snacks
|
I ain't see stars, I'm a G pa
|
Threw the Lam' in 6th, Drove to the E.R.
|
Had to make it hot
|
Feel like Pac I know it's set up
|
Them old niggaz know I'm bout to take they spot
|
Ain't no A.B. - I.O.U.
|
Y.B. That'll get 'em up in I.C.U.
|
Like I see you at the BP, shot 'em off G.P.
|
Guns from VA, PA, down to D.C.
|
D.O.A. if you short up on my P.C.
|
C-74 switched 'em over to P.C.
|
Like Chuck D, we the '06 P.E.
|
Fuck me why, I'm in the '06 G.T.
|
All about them G's B, we the B.G.
|
Byrd Gang Dipset, D.I.P. see
|
Like KRS-One, the great B.D.P.
|
You wanna join the crew, then you must see me, flee
|
(Get 'em Daddy) Got 'em mommy, you my Gotham Bonnie
|
Cause I'm Batman with the pump, Johnny Johnny
|
(Get 'em Daddy) Honey smile, don't act funny style
|
In one ear, yeah yeah, 220 thou'
|
|
-----------------
|
Get 'Em Daddy (Remix)
|
| Cam'ron |