[Verse 1: Jim Jones]

I told Swizz they ain't ready for the smoke though (Oh!)

Still got niggas that be pointin’ guns at the po-po

Probably got a picture of your auntie in my photos

That was you in front the building

When she was hoppin' out my four-door

Shit, but what you like nineteen now?

But you probably still never had like nineteen thou'

In my day I had to work to bring the white fiends down

Brought some crackheads around, just to wipe the V down

Why drink Rose when Jay got Aces?

Free Leek he was with me the other day up in Aces

Bunch of pretty watches with the frozen up faces

We got them lawyers we can call just to close up the cases

Shit, I’m from Harlem, where that stuntin is outrageous

Went up in the dealer just to cop somethin' outrageous

Yeah we got parents, but the drug dealers raised us

And shit, I prayed to God, but the lord never saved us

So we stuck what we stuck, what was fuckin' with that?

I pack guns with shoulder stocks with the muffler attached

We take trips to different places with the butler attached

Or playback the Maybach, press a button relax

[Chorus: Swizz Beats & Jim Jones]

Preach

Oh my, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh

Preach

Oh my, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh

[Verse 2: Jim Jones]

Supreme Court hearings, brand new McLarens

Suede pipe seats, Tiptronic steering

Baby this is art that come with no commission

Could be a blind man, but you gotta know the vision

Private jets just to blow the izzo

Parden me 'cause I been accused of male chauvinism

Gettin' head in the whip, and havin' no collisions

Never lackin' 'cause I keep that fully loaded with em

Shit, you know I gotta shout the bros in prison (Eastside)

My nigga Gleem is like a blow magician

Shit, he cook it up and watch it disappear

Shit, now light it up and let it hit the air (Light that up)

I was spittin’ Ace of Spade all in this bitch’s ear

I told her, like pretty women like Richard Gere

Uh, pack guns and stay fly is a part of us

Four bitches packed up in the Benz, it's like a party bus

All this tough talk, but niggas ain’t as hard as us

I cook coke at the kitchen, watch it harden up

[Chorus: Swizz Beats & Jim Jones]

Preach

Oh my, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh

Preach

Oh my, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh

Preach

My, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh