[Jay-Z (Bobby Byrd)] (I'm not trying to be no big thing, no no) You gotta let this one breathe Just Just let it breathe for a second (I'm not trying to give you no advice) Yup Hovi's home The newest addition to The Roc, M.O.P (I don't claim to be) The Blueprint 2 is on it's way (No philosopher) I know y'all hear my footsteps out there, I'm coming (But I sure know, this is life, baby, baby) Let's go get 'em Just
[Verse 1: Lil' Fame] Time to dump fiyah dump fiyah Dump fiyah, dump fiyah, dump fiyah (You don't know, what you're doing, doing, doing, doing) It's the Mo' P And the zip code is 1 1 2 3 THREE, and motherfucker we coming 100 miles and gunning I'm still running with cats that rob From the era of XL 80's and hatchback Saabs Operation for this industry lockdown We still tote hammers that go blak-ow Run up if you wanna Believe me dawg These hammers with they owners Fuck your G up Have ya with blue Pampers in a coma And your family now moan Look seventy pounds gone A little fuck, shriveled up with a hospital gown on We holding it down homes Keep pushing we fell bastards To get over, we prowl with slippery shell tactics Jiminy frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups Lil' niglette What the fuck you recordin for Nick Jr The game ain't changed It just got harder Plus we sponsored by Laze, Dame Dash and Mr. S dot Carter Brownsville, we stomp through this bitch all day Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage
[Billy Danze] I'm from the G side of thangs Where we ride and bang With a heat dat'll flame That's how we got the name Warriors Embedded in ya brains And someone should be telling em the veterans have came And we're better in the game You better make it rain (27 a gram) My man, it's better than cocaine Now everything will change and this Family will rule the world And you haters can eat a dick up till you hiccup and earl! A decade on the grind, nigga I paid mine So it's my time to shine and for you to ride the pine I won't sit back and rap like these dumb-ass kids I been around, I put it down I ain't these young-ass kids The O.G.'s repped and survived around this motherfucker We kept it live around this motherfucker When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay For shizzle my nigga, learn to grip pistols in B.K
[Jay-Z] Turn my music high, high, high, high-er Mo' fire, more Roc-a-wear attire Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired Mo' further for the Roc Empire Y'all won't serve us Y'all nervous Know them guns on full service, ready to fire One body, two body, three body, four Young sitting on paper, I'm above the law Young shitting on haters, I ain't fucking with y'all For my Brownsville neighbors, how About Some Hardcore And it just get worser Every time I sign my signature in cursive Just add another million to these verses One million, two million, three million, four And the money's really worthless I'm pissing you off on purpose My nephew's situated and my mom is straight So I'm ready for whatever drama should come my way And you niggas rapping to me, so your drama is fake You dudes is noodles, I got more ziti to bake You dudes is cake I keep two biscuits on the waist Razor blades under the tongue I will eat your face Appetite for destruction I am starving today Got a money hungry lawyer that'll eat the case And that's just food for thought, don't let it go to waste Nigga bite the bullet until you stuffing your face, ha I done forgot more than you ever learned What you don't know will make your home a permanent urn, nigga
[Outro] Do you believe it You don't know, what you're doing - doing - doing - doing Do you believe it You don't know, what you're doing - doing - doing - doing Do you believe it