[Intro: Fat Joe]

I am the realest rapper

Not gonna lie, I am, by far, the realest rapper

I really did it

If you go to my roots, I really did it

Not showing them a jumbo

Like I really... when Chris Lighty signed me

I had Benzes and Beamers and trucks and everything

Like, I left the game...

[Verse 1: Fat Joe]

I body this beat, I'm a track killer

You gon have to sue me, Mack Miller

Ever since 16 I'm a crack dealer

Spit 16, straight crack ask Mac Miller

Ask Bumpy if I knuckle up

Lil' haze, Lil' Dro, double dutch

Ray Allen couldn't shoot a nigga

Bitch ask for the ball like a tutor giver

She got my kids in her mouth, she a baby sitter

Nigga hit then I'm out (then I'm out)

My nigga locked up, bail him out

Nigga, stop asking bout Flow Joe

New whip, new chain, same logo

Turn a deuce-deuce to a 44

It’s a no-go if it ain't rose gold

And the rose gold's parked out in SoHo

[Hook: Fat Joe]

I got crack for sale

Niggas wanna crack me down

They smile in my face but those niggas really wanna see Crack in jail

I got crack

[Soundbite: Chi-Ali & interviewer]

Listen, I know you coming back to the game

Absolutely

And I know you coming, like, ferociously

Absolutely, we got some, we got some joints, a lot of joints done already

Joints with Fat Joe, Maino, 9th Wonder, we working

We working with a lot of big names

[Verse 2: Chi-Ali]

Now niggas, talk about me but please don't touch

Cuz I ain't got no safety, homie, I might bust

And when I bust, my hot rocks gon' hit you

And if they miss you, then my dawgs will sic you

And we ain't had no shots, so we got rabies

And if you put up your dukes, you'll be pushing up daisies

I'm lazy from all that piff that I blow

And I get it for cheap from this bitch that I know

On the east side, I get on top then she rides

When I bus' off I dust off and be slide

Gotta go, I'll be back yo

I meet the bitches and exing them out like tic-tac-toe

Get that that dough, is what I live by

And I'mma get that dough until I dizz-ie

[Talking: Chi-Ali & Freddie Foxxx]

Yo Freddie Foxxx, what's good my G?!

I've always been the guest MC that body er'body's records

Cuz i've been underground doing this like that for a while

[Verse 3: Freddie Foxxx]

Bumpy Knuckles spiritual spit channeling puns

So I can make this an even deeper brotherly bond

What level he murder his flow

Bubbly party and hoes

Double he hard as he goes

[?]

My killers in the 45 roll through and make the vibe airy

The whole outside line leery

Cuz the Bump is here

It's bout to be some funk in here

Real niggas in the room

Rule 1: no search, two guns, and two shooters on the wings

The last thing you wanna do around me is brag about selling em' things

Tempting, raw from the underground pipeline

Write rhymes, that, talk about stopping niggas' lifelines

45 slugs through your iPhone, iCrimes, apps everywhere

Cos Papa don't clap in the air