produced by DJ Premier
written by Tone, Tragedy Khadafi, MC Shan, Shalena “Nikki” Bratcher, Royce Da 5'9, Marley Marl, Nas, Capone, Havoc, Nature, Poke, The King of Chill, Cormega, DJ Premier, Asiah Lewis, Prodigy of Mobb Deep & Guru
"What, you wanna battle me?!" "Yo, man, how much money you got?" "What, you wanna battle me?!" "Yo, man, how much money you got?"
FIRST VERSE:I used to guzzle 40's and own a beat up Caddy Since the hood still love me, I'll turn the heat up, Daddy I went from mackin' fly honeys on the train To straight relaxin' on the beach, countin' money, gettin' brain Soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot You buy a iced out watch because it cost a lot Then you in the club, stylin' with dough Profilin' with hoes that we boned a while ago You rookies haven't done enough laps around the track You had one hot single, but then your album sounds wack Son, you bore me with your war stories You ain't even do that shit, so that's just more stories How you expect us to take you seriously? The look in my eye, punk, has got you scared of me I'm blastin' your sons, I'm snatchin' your funds You catch a royal ass-whoopin', you've been askin' for one
SAMPLE SCRATCHING:"'Bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game" "What, what?" "We thorough to the end" "Yo, man…" "You know the drill" "'Bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game" "What, you wanna battle me?!" "Yo, man, how much money you got?"
SECOND VERSE:Bitch, you don't even know the half about me I bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me I'm just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser I might advise ya, or I might pulverize ya I can visit any city, get respect in the street While you alone in your room, shook to death of the streets I'll take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach I ain't talkin' romance, but you'll get swept off your feet I keeps a ghetto chick that loves to blast and she peddle shit Groupies fake moves, I get her to settle shit You can't compare to the status right here Legendary worldwide, we can battle right here Listen, Junior, I'ma tear back your wig This ain't TV, but I'll show you what a "fear factor" is Stop grillin' me, and all that frontin' is killin' me You leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings, G
SAMPLE SCRATCHING:"'Bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game" "What, you wanna battle me?!" "Yo, man, how much money you got?" "What, what?" "We thorough to the end" "Yo, man…" "You know the drill" "'Bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game" "'Bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game" "We thorough to the end" "'Bout to slap rappers around—" "We thorough to the end" "You know the drill" "'Bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game" "You know the drill"