[20 seconds instrumental intro]

[Verse 1]

I'm tired of niggas thinkin' they Sylvester

But now you prob'ly thinkin' which one

Shit, Rambo, Rocky, pick one (ooh!)

I'm in the seven star telly

And the room key come with a butler

If you bring her, you gon' fuck her (boo!)

I'm a playa, I use my rules the two-thousand-and-five

2 Live Crew's in the Moulin Rouge (yeah!)

When I party, I tend to get a few long screws

So I'm in the V.I.P with the two long Ruges (uh-huh!)

You stupid to go against us, 'cause you gon' loose

We got bullets, the size of newborn shoes (wooo!)

And I'm connected around the board, so the Southside chiefs

Out in Ca$hville nothin' 'bout steel and gold-teeth (whattup?)

You ain't got to know Hip-Hop to know 'bout this (uh-uh!)

Entrepre-nigga with the poke-out wrist (yeah!)

Give me the dice, I fuck around and throw 'bout six

And be the reason you roll out piss, I'm buyin' Cris' with this (Yeeeeeeeah!)

I'm from the slum, so this is pitched

To the lil' niggas that never got a Christmas gift

Give me a minute to hear me out

So clear my name from the bullshit (uh-huh!)

'Cause gettin' money what I'm really 'bout

And chinchilla when it's chilly out (uh!)

Rollin' up a phillie blunt, pay attention to how I really stunt (woo!)

Either you gangsta or really drunk

Fuck what ya heard, my clique run the city, chump (chump)

[Instrumental break]

[Verse 2]

Allow me to display excellence

Poppa caught a nut, momma had a son and I've been this way ever since (wooo!)

You know, head full of negligence

Hell-a high dog in the bing over bitch-made evidence

My whole hood on the chase for the dead presidents

'Cause ain't nuttin' out here, check, check out my residence

Man I'm the best, nothin' more nothin' less

But I will be the greatest when I back-off my hiatus (g'eah!)

My neighborhood's good but I don't wave to my neighbors

They wouldn't see it anyway, they 'bout a block away, HEY!

My flow is rawer than Columbian yay'

I'm like the MJ in his day; hungry to play

And the level-7 Suburban there come with a 'K

It's on-road off-road, put your Hummers away, okay?

Come swingin' you'll be bleedin' from the gun

'Cause I ain't tryna wrestle not even with my thumb (OH!)

I went to hot Cancun from freezin' in the slum

Half done, off Bacardi Breezers with the rum (WOOO!)

I ain't never been a cuddlier she's leavin' when I come

Like Deebo on his bike: "Spend the evening with your son!"

You ain't leavin' with a crumb, bitch I'm from the hood, ya heard?

Violate, I wish you would you bird

Y'all don't want it with the Boy Wonder

That'll only get you in a rumble

Crawlin' on the floor like a fumble, nigga