[Verse 1: Ludacris] Death by lyrical injection I kill you rappers A lot of green with a yellow complexion Women call me the Green Bay packer I pack the zero’s Meaning mucho deniro So paid, rappers is waitin’ on trades and they all get Knicked like Melo Hello, LUDA! Tell theses other boys double up ‘Cause I got some work all on my waist but I call it a tummy tuck My every records jumpin’, or playin’ double dutch I shit on rappers every verse just got the bubble guts
[Verse 2: Joe Budden] Let me tell this to the people not understandin’ my moxy Animal, watch me if you think it’s ?, stop me But then I hit ‘em with a flow, that they can’t even copy See, we don’t play that Where I’m from it’s like fantasy hockey Sup with the dog, thugs want a war Bad jean, what you want to trade slugs with ‘em for While you cuffin’ em more, I’m stuffin’ the jaw Illegal for you to reworking Kevin Love on the board, dog? You and your skills ? on my squad I put you on a crash course in a smart car Going speeding not relying on the brake pad The car you still drive on the race track So you lying bout your feelings and the Maybach? A ghost tail for the Phantoms, face facts? We ruin hip hop, slaughterhouse and payback In the shape of a tatt, you done faded to black GO…
[Hook: Claret Jai]
[Verse 3 - Royce da 5'9''] I went from eating top ramen to being top rhymer Check full of commas No regrets except for the drama I remember a time when my only perfection was my momma My mind in the wrong direction Now it’s time ya bow down in ? Writ in my honour cause bitch I’m bonker, plural In a whip with my Ivanka, pompous? girl She on E, feeling on me, singing on key While I’m bumping We Are The World Got a sniff from Britney, no he didn’t did he “We run this town” No he didn’t did he I feel like tinting the glass, You take a sip with me She from the city of Jackson I call her Mississippi, that was pretty witty Demand like a black man tryna get re-elected He aint get it, did he?
[Hook: Claret Jai]
[Joell Ortiz] ? to the pedal Pedal to the floor Just whippin’ it through the ghetto Metal in the door, case I gotta throw some lead into ya, boy Referee mind state, I’m settling the score I don’t know what ya’ll hating for Wait, wait, know what, matter fact I don’t know what you’re waiting for I aint finna say nothing, turn the bass up more til the speakers pop I get a kick outta that, like a sneakers spot See I was a little kid with his thumbs in his ears and his tongue in his ear going na-na-na-nah-naaar Just when you think it stop na-na-na-nah-naaar Everything I speak is hot But bont be mad at least everything you speak is… I can’t think of nothing nice to say, you’re not nice okay
[Crooked I] Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur My shit fly like I’m launching manure Lord of the underground, God of the saw On Hennessy black, go punch to the jaw Yeah I’m off the block This aint work, call me “I’m off the block” I’m a syllable, Hannibal, killer cannibal With a mechanical manual to deliver the flammable ammo Lyrical and I’m off the top Rep that West till I walk with Pac We the 2.0 Boys, quick fricken Joe boys New gold Rolls Royce, fall off the lot Cock me, the only way you can stop me I’m top seed, I pop green at my speed So watch me, if you haven’t seen the phenomenom I speak fast as Lamborghini’s in Ramadan
[Hook]
[Outro] I suggest you shut it down Pack your ‘ish and turn around Because tonight, we run this town So let your feet, still swiftly hit the ground