[Produced by Willy Will]

[Verse 1: Bun B]

Yeah

When I step in the spot, motherfuckers say "Who that?"

Big Bun Beeda but you already knew that

Live from the state where they chop it and screw that

You hatin' on the trill OG, where they do that? (For real!)

Motherfuckers need to get off the dick, man

Fall the fuck back like a bike with no kickstand

Get out my mix, man, just gon' get you stuck

Deeper in the quicksand with no easy fix, man (Damn)

No tricks, man, those is for kids

Kush in my cigar and hoes in the crib

Drank and the twenty-ounce froze in the fridge

You fuckin' with P.A. so you know what it is (What it is)

I'm sittin' on the fours that clack

Comin' down candy in the golden 'Lac

We gettin' to the money like it's Goldman Sachs

Said we do it for the Pimp, so no holding back, let's go!

[Bridge: Nas]

Look who crept in, crept-crept in

Look-look who crept in, look-look wh-

[Verse 2: Nas]

L-l-l-look who crept in with automatic weapons

Reppin' QB 'til the death of him

That nigga that inspired

Lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em

Track record goes back to the Essence

Smack adolescents who ask who the best is

I'm nasty like gas from a fat man's intestines

I pass it, you gaspin' for breath and you die fast

Gut 'em like a gastric bypass

But ya Nas advocates actors

Seem to get typecast in the same role

Since sixteen, I ain't grow a day old

Yet my brain grow

Cocaine white Range Rov'

Tats on my body like an art exhibit

I did real good for a project nigga

Was once a Bacardi sipper

Now it's Chandon, fat blunts in the car with strippers

Guns in compartments hidden

I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga

Blessings, bowed down, respected

Chowed down, now my food's digested

Pow-pow, with my shooters are Techs

That'll bust louder than the noise that I just spit

Let's get one thing straight

That my crown ain't for testing, testing

Chop heads off like King Henry the Eighth

Guillotine to your neck, bitch

I'm a king in this thing, don't be dumb

Been in this shit since '91

Niggas can't fuck with the style I use

Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum

Calm now, was a wildin' dude

Studied Taoism, made power moves

Watched Wild Planet, seen lions devour food

You can say that's how I move

A monster nigga, and I don't really like doing songs with niggas

But, yo, my nigga Wayne

Let them niggas hate, 'cause like my nigga Drake say

"We ain't got time to respond to niggas"

[Verse 3: Shyne]

I'm a villain, I'm a villain

All that happens in the street

Poverty and desperation

Made me everything I be

I'm a shotta when I pop up

With them poppers, burn ya block up

Call the judges, call the coppers

We takin' over Gotham

Word to Poppa

Blood, Bl-Blood Gang, five

It's that Blood Gang five

But green is the bottom line

I run this town, I ain't gon' lie

They run they mouth, they ain't gon' fire

They actin' like they ain't gon' die

Until I let them 'llamas fly

Flatbush to Bed Do-or-Die

From Watts to Larry Hoover, Chi'

Poverty and heroine

It's no place for a juvenile

Put greed in our heart

It's the green that we want

Cash Money is the company

And Weezy the boss!

[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]

They say I'm underrated (Uh-huh)

But un-compete-with-able

Hm... understandable

Being that my rating levels are unreachable (Huh)

Anything said other than that should be silenced

Unspeakable! (Shh!)

And the thought of you being nicer than me

Unfeasible! (Oh)

They ask is what I do ever gonna stop

This shit will never end

That's when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth

Got 'em sayin' ("There he goes again!")

See now, they nominated a nigga to come and flatten everything

Now let me dominate it, nigga, run

And they be knowin' that I be blackin' on everything

And make it complicated like a nigga constipated with a gun

I gotta make it what they want and wake 'em when I come

And shake 'em and bake 'em and take 'em to another place

Ain't no fakin', ain't no kind of mistaking how I be breakin' up everything

And be creating a s-s-s-situation when I'm done (Damn!)

You see, I spit National Treasure

Discography rich

And I done killed more cats

Than curiosity, snitch! (Ooh)

Most of you niggas sorry

And owe apologies quick

What the fuck you niggas still hangin' around here for?

You apostrophe, bitch?

Okay, now enough of that

See now, I'm out the door

Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole 'nother classic

With Tha Carter IV