Released on January 1, 2005

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The dog is still up to toss, supporting a cut for cost

I'm lost in another source, come talk to a underboss

No matter if I sell L, still be in jail, hell

Cause even my Pel Pel snorkel is butter-soft

It's the dude with the eight-oh, make you chew the potato

I'm just the ruthless of ruthless -- your best move is to lay low

I come through with the payload, QB on rainbow

Jesus head on chill, ill blueberry halo

I'm back to the raw, creep; my back to the wall, peep

The hard show of condos, relax down in Wall Street

Still bagging for sure, cheap

Plus, walk around with a bag of dust like I've been vacuuming all week

See, I smile -- wild, I'm fly, child

Shop til I drop, ock, they loving my style

No less than five thou'

So you better be talking the hair over your eyes if you ever say that I browse

We maneuver, yes -- do it wet through the West

But stretch no less than a stupid ex

I lay the troopers left, uptown to dust down

My man Buddha Bless got it like the buddha fest

But also trust me, they all so dusty

I been eating well, got a little gordo husky

But the broads all love me and keep a Barbie

That'll make you swear you ain't seen a meaner doll since Chucky

Regardless the artist, there's no one as hard as R

Try starving, but pardon R, you can't harbin a monster, pa

R is too far from y'all

In other words, the cow with the squirrel is out of this world

A Martian with bars from Mars, I'll target your entourage

Larkins will part your mob

Gotta get exotic whips -- you ordering R&R

I flaunt up in foreign cars, drop six Beretta rim topless

Way before them little white girls in Mardi Gras

Hardy har, hater, I laugh, wave around cash

This paper is major, player, I save some in stash

They stay on my..., grain in the dash

Gators I flash; fresh, yes -- my fitteds come cased up in glass

Dag, I been better; biz cheddar, the cash, you gasser

She'll be down south faster than M. Betha

The limb stretcher, a.k.a. chin checker

Man, this rap is just too real for Vendetta

Heifer, who is this hard? You is retard

Thinking you could move with the God

I found a boo, I menage; she picked her boobs and her bra

A student, she Cuban -- her father into Cuban cigars

And ma always down, holler, Brown 'pala S.S, fresh-dressed

Chrome wheels, chrome grills, sounds proper

The town's mobster who gave all the town toppers

Club, tour bus, down to the Crown Plaza

Yes, this the freak, sex for a week

Sex til I peak, skeet skeet, mess up the sheets

Neck to her cheek or next to her cheeks

Yes, this is another executive at the executive suite

And G'ing them was nothin', keep up with your buzzin'

Remember night times and had to re-up with my cousin

Broke day -- shit, we had to be up and be shufflin'

Couple pies, kinda like the pizza in the oven

The streets were just corruption, measly and disgusting

Triple goose, hit the stoop, heated my construction

Ki's that I was hustling, one for ten, two for twenty

Steve Martin, I could get 'em cheaper by the dozen

Pushed for my own bread, took it from known dreads

On the hot block, ock, I'll push ya with chrome lead

Cats who fronted got wooden or chrome legs

And just pistol-whipped and now look like the Coneheads

Listen, doggie, chill, me, I'm a boss for real

I want the house in the villa, ill on the hill

So I'ma dog my deal, give it the scorch you feel

And be on billboards till a cat bored with bills

Try hurting me, you'll wind up in infirmary

Nursery, burgundy, certainly emergency

Punch to the face if it's a damn smirk I see

You know what it's gon' be if you ain't murkin' me

Hey pal, sit in a ditch, trip where you trip

Squeeze the five, need a ride? Give you a lift

Chickens just flip when they see the gliss in the wrist

Don't talk back, but they keep giving me lip

I'm sick, which be f'ing with me

The G fronting I see, I leave stuck in a tree

Please, I will have you ski cuffed to a V

And drive your stupid ass across the G.W.B., see?

Yes, dude sane, Tec do aim

Bloaw bloaw, get you slain -- guess who's blamed?

Me -- I'm the bad guy who fly in that stretch new Range

With TV's like a Jet Blue plane, mayne

Yeah, you're man's braggin', no more damn cabbin'

They didn't stop for me when they saw my hands flaggin'

Now you tan-baggin' cause your pants saggin'?

You ain't a boss, you dorks sit on the bandwagon

And that's just half the matter, who sicker, badder?

Ask about me , I wave around the biggest dagger

Ask about yourself, you're the biggest slacker

Stop admiring mines and go get a swagger

You doziered me, I'm someone no one could see

You're broke as a joke

My rose-gold get freeze, the lowest degree

Darn, so much boogers on my arm

You would swear I wipe my nose with my sleeve

So the birds roam; word, homes

They want my cell, hell

Pager, e-mail, then my work phone

Damn a chirp tone, cause straight up

The Jacob got it looking like I copped a wrist full of birth stones

Those are rocks for real, I cop on chill

I cop on hill, rag top DeVille

I got a deal, so I ain't gotta deal

But I'mma still take out ten and go cop some krills

And have my cousin stretch, he gon' double, yes

Bring out the hoopdie, put away that bubble Lex

Any sucker step, I'mma just rush his neck

With two toys, rude boy -- I get nuff respect

It's nothing to J to leave you stuck where you stay

Have you clutching a trey, you'll be ducking a stray

They lust how I play

When you're nice and up-and-coming, everybody got something to say

It's either, "You sound like him," "You're wack, you're silly"

You're too tall, too small, fat, or skinny

He bluffin', he shakin', or ge gonna grow up to be Nathan

With not enough education, that's why I stay up and be pacin'

And yell eff you gonna love and hate him

If you don't love me, you hatin'

Not a jerk sick as this, with words ridiculous

He's only nineteen, I got birth certificates

I know you mad as hell, you ain't never pass a cell

Come to bing, you just sing like Pat LaBelle

And you wack as hell

Listen, chimp, you still would stink even if you used Vagisil

Hell, the chickens sit and yell

I'm sickening, you smell? And glistening, you tell

Plus I still will hit your whip up with some shells

That'll throw your V in the air quicker than Pharrell

I'm way in the zone, Dikembe Malone

These small guys are small fries, leave this player alone

You ain't waving on chrome

Any casualties, this fag'll be at the academy

Like, "Here's your statement, Mahone"

Don't mistaken me, homes, for all this gray in the stone

I still squeeze a trey and let em lay in your bones

F if you lift weights or you tone

I'mma empty and throw the pick in your face like Razor Ramon

Uh, let me hear a raise in your tone, prick, I kill

Chill, You gon' need a semi-steel

Come to bricks, I move em semi still

And get the weight off faster than Trim-Spa will

My nells, I don't get weed in the gone

But I might go get some weed when I'm gone

On the beach, had a reef keeping me calm

With a bad Waikiki freak in some thongs

Who can't wait to breathe on the bong

It feels good to walk past palm trees with trees on your palm

Then hit her twice in the morn'

And see how all these player haters want to beef with the Don

'Cause VVS in my charm from my sleeves to my arm

Twenty-threes on the lawn, I just sleep on the yawn

'Cause admit it, you ain't never seen nobody this sleek since the Fonz

So don't confuse the beast for all the losers, creeps

If you rich, prick, we got tools and heat

And take everything down to your shoes and sneaks