[Intro: Raekwon] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah nigga That's all yall niggas talk about all fucking day man The whips man, fucking cars and all that shit Fucking vehicles and shit man We been swingin' and all these niggas need to cut it out man Cause ya'll niggas is babies man
[Verse 1: Raekwon] Remember the Four Runners, Corsicas, back with the gold cunnions Maxima yep, stances, Audis with sick vances Datsuns, Corollas, all of the oldies yo Riding through the city, Jettas and Volvos Crestas' was for the extra terrestrial Alpha Romeos, yeah the Wranglers and Lexus' Pintos, Geos, Suzukis was the truth yo Making them up town trips, cops'll shoot you though Benzs, five-sixties, Galants and the fly Rivies Riveras look grisly huh You know we come through, something mean under the sun roof I blow a blunt, poof, shorty singing I'm Koof Yeah the Sterling, the Grand Ams The Lincoln with the crab amps Made me mad, in the Blazer we all cramped Six deep, four bags of cheeba, a crisp beat All I need to show you now is a sick Jeep
[Verse 2: AZ] Eighty-four mopeds, blue and white Pro-Keds Just started puff'n, got instructions from an old head Co-ved, wally rock'n niggas tryna grow dreads Back in the bush, Church Ave on the juxs Shell toes, black and white, no laces in 'em Pat U-edition had his whole face in 'em Straight leg denims, Taylor made shit Kareem Laker colors, low cut suede tip Stay dipped, Stan Smith lay sick Two-toned colors, put the taps on the rubber Puma rockin' nigga, fuck a womber I was bigger See a bitch in seconds an assumed that I could rip her None hipper, copped kicks with the zippers The Filas arrived, it was Levis and high In V Tracks I was simply the mack Everything I snatched had to match with the hat Reebok rocker, whole crew couldn't knock us Fuck who, only thing to do was just Glock us Valley Competitions and the Jordans hit stores I'm sitting reminiscing, T. La Rock it's yours Now fast forward time nigga still on the grind Haters everywhere, nigga still gotta shine Guccis all kinds, switch 'em up for the weather Louis' in lime, Only do it for the pleasure Come fresher, from the tech on the dresser Fifth in the waist, still crys'd and I'm laced
[Outro: AZ] Niggas, And I do it for real you dig You know, I still rock the Gor-Tex and Tims when necessary Other then that, Bogary low cuts the minimum Or I do the Italian Classic Olympic cut Guccis Three quarters, you bum ass niggas