[Verse 1: T.I.] G shit, certified, nigga can’t touch him Bosses all love him, haters, well fuck them Bought cribs everywhere, everything custom ?, bougie bitches like “What’s them?” Solitaire clear stones, Maybach, clear dome Blowin’ on that Lyle pack, bank rolls full grown We all know convict?, gone with the dumb shit Thug life wit’ it, like it tatted on my stomach Nigga better pick another number because I am not the one The bigger pictures whats important before all is said and done I bet I get this shit back up under my feet Bullshit decides, what I want, I keep I’m the big bad wolf, and I want my sheep Your birthday cake, I want my piece I’m beefing with MC’s at the meet It seems they’re less then decent I’m a beast, then you’re my feast Apologies, you just can keep it Say you’re winning, yes you’re being condescending and facetious G’s from seat to shine see you may bump this in your Caprice
[Yelawolf] I once had a friend named Charlie, and Charlie was always late to school He had a black eye one day, but he wouldn’t say just what happened to him Charlie got mad in class one day, and stood up with a .22 pistol Told everybody that he couldn’t take it anymore, he was over being the victim See, one bullet through the wall, and the history class was interrupted Charlie, foot down in the pool of blood, in the class that made it public He said that the bullies in school, they drove him to be a suicidal Cause the mirrors didn’t reflect the criteria of an American Idol Well, sometimes I feel like I could run through the hallways with an AK too Not sayin’ that I would, but it might feel good, to off me a rapper or two So, I loaded this pen with a hollow tip, and I followed T.I.P To the hollow pits of my heart for shit, for you to role model with Take a fifth of Jack and swallow it, take a point shell and hollow it Don’t be the one with the gun, be the one with the rum, plus two models with All the kids, listen up, Yelawolf don’t give a fuck about a club I don’t wanna see you in school, tryna’ do what I do, telling folks you gon’ pop the trunk Make something of something, or something from nothing, baby wait Ok, radioactive and it’s ready for action, see if I really give a fuck, Shady
[Hook - Lil Jon] Up in the club, don’t give a fuck Up in the club, don’t give a fuck Up in the club, don’t give a fuck Up in the club, still don’t give a fuck
[Crooked I] 9 millimeter, ride with a heater, drive with a liter I’m finna need a mic and a speaker I’m finna beat a prominent leader, come from the seater Tell competition “Hasta la vista” Dog, you putting my name in the middle of sucker shit It’s something like you gettin’ raped by a stranger Cause you do not know who you’re fuckin’ with Crooked is a product of the S-L-A-U-G-H-T-E-R You, haha, funny, I had money when the DVD was a VCR Niggas about to need CPR when they see the car, pull up, dead I might pull over, fuck my chauffeur, cause my screwdriver’s Philip’s head Them I’mma tell to take me to Yela, getting fucked up, I aint feelin’ embarrassed The feelin’ in the air is the 2.0′s party, like niggas and wiggas in Paris
[Royce da 5'9"] Nickle 9, the rhyme, rhyming, the drama, the driver, firing alarmer But a bunch of fly bitches saying Hi to me now cause a nigga said Hi to Rihanna Cause I look (cause I look) and I smell good (It’s a man’s World) Thats right I’m the new James Brown, drunk in an interview, fuck you finna do? What I’m finna do is go to the strip club and order 8 bricks I’m on my T.I.P in ATL looking for a little pretty young thing I can escape with Radioactive, Shady gon make it go Platinum, I couldn’t resist Jump on that Slaughterhouse, Yelawolf, Lil Jon Hard White remix
[Hook - Lil Jon]
[Joell Ortiz] Lil Jon, let me get a lil bit, I mean a minute, nothin’ crazy It’s just that I’ma lyricist and I’ve been sittin’ with this