Tekst:
Hot Chip A B C

's shaking then you know you've felt the bass Then the singing starts and they proceed to wreck the place Making tracks just like A B C Picking up awards

, had no dough, had no hoes Shit was real thirsty back in them times Like Martin Lawrence a 'Real Thin Line' I ran across a few real niggas, a lotta hatin' niggas A

, funky like a bag of Bravos Way back, when I used to pump 92 KTU and Carlos I just stay funky like that Make you wanna my style like a junkie on crack

Fuck bein a broke nigga Verse Two: Jadakiss (overlaps last two lines of Puff Daddy) I want a all chromed out wit the clutch, nigga Drinkin malt liquor, drivin a

on the Prowler Blaze up a blunt as I tell you all about it Kill'a of the Hill'a, crawl like caterpillar Pour a fo-fo up in my grapes as for real'a This

and the gauges BLOW! Fuck they hatin fo'? Don't make me pop a fella Roc-A-Fella, stop a fella, could get hot for fellas, SIG!!! [Beanie Sigel] WHAT

it's safe to say You ain't seen a playa lay this way Or playa game this way Wit a attitude like and ya don't stop Aficionado, so fashionable Wit a confident

a lot You wearing a Jacob watch, and fronting like they were rocks When the Mix Tap Messiah drops, that B-S is finna stop I'm not gon knock a nigga

the 60 shot pronto Sheek that kid that spit out like tobacco Lyrically fucked out, a fit ain't chips, we ducked out Won't touch out if it ain't a 7 figure