-Nz-

[Cam'Ron]
My dude ridin, he ridin in Lamborghinis
The oyster mixed with linguini, you hear me?
He's a rida!
All in together, together we gettin cheddar
Yo cheddar we get together, you hear me?
He's a rida!
My dude ridin, he ridin in Lamborghinis
The oyster mixed with linguini, you hear me?
He's a rida!
All together, together we gettin cheddar
You dude's you know better, why?
He's a rida!

[J.R. Writer]
Listen pal, I ain't gotta spit, child you was not as sick
Foul for a while, look my style is anonymous
Pound for pound of piff, smile cuz I'm drownin it
Yous a fake G like a thousand in counterfeits
I can show you how to flip that bird
How to hit that curb, how to get that served
Youngin, I'm the shhh, that's word
Yous a prick, fag, herb, you get pimped slapped heard?
Huh, come get wit a rebel
I put the kick to the pedal
The clip in the metal
Listen here...Your F-in engineer couldn't get to my level
Dipset is forever B, bet y'all remember me
Stretch all my enemies, heckler send 'em three
But, I got a tech that'll get a G
To drop his flag like a ref on a penalty
I'm fresher than lemon squeeze, wrist wrap chill
Pitch black car wit them pitch black wheels
Nice small stash box
Leave you at the red light, the kid's that real!
Steppin in his Nikes, freshest in your sight
You ain't never seen these F-in Pella in ya life!
I throw on fresh gear, throw on fresh wear
This is something you will have to throw on next year, Yea!

[Hook]

[J.R.]
Listen scrap believe me, you need crack to see me
I'm a classic, one of your old scratched up CD's
Check my swag it's easy
That you can see I do the damn thing and I ain't Fab or Jeezy
I stepped to the crap wit Weezy
Front of the tenements
Posted up on post, hundred Dominicans
That'll clap you soon as you go to beef wit J
Throw a couple at you once they hear Dida Le!
Putcha brains all across the pavement
You niggaz singin like you singin how you talk to agents
But drop my name, and I'ma stop
Throw in a box like some caps at a hop-scotch game
I cop drops mane, come peep what I whip whore
A 62, got it jumpin like a 6-4
Soon as I hit tour, brrr, caught a chill
Sleeves on freeze, add up to a quarter mil!
I'm bout to talk my deal, that's what a thug about
Killa, hate sharing, tell 'em I need another house!
I dig ya motha out, then put her in a cab
Gas her up then hit the hooker wit them slabs
What you think? Naw I ain't a rookie wit it fag
She'll have to boof that in a cookie like a pad
You rookies are just mad, you can't say shit to me
You gotta get ridda me, I'm bout to make history

[Hook]