| [40 seconds of ad libs to open] |
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Fat Joe, Joe Crack, shit's all the same |
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Old rusty ass block from which I came |
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Fat boy big dreams, Mac-10, the vest |
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When Mac-10 shoot teams try to shoot up the set |
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But I'm a G nigga, I'll loosen the Tec |
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Wet the whole block, sip Grey Goose in the jet |
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Pzhooom... back to the Boogie |
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Backpack rappers they should have a plaque in the Boogie |
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of me~!!! You know why? Number one hustler |
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I opened up the floodgates, my "Flow Joe" customers |
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[laughing] We all about the gunplay |
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but still take time out to pray every Sunday |
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[Chorus: various samples scratched] |
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The watch is sick, the chain is Alaska |
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Whip so many (P's) now they callin me the +Master+ |
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UNGHHHH! Thank God for that white |
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I've been slingin it all day, we cookin it all night |
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It's on with the don, never let shit slide |
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Have your ass wear a patch like Slick Rick's side |
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Talk money, there's so much money, I can't even count |
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Gotta put it on a scale, ten grand weigh a ounce |
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Same corner all week, got the scene closed off |
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Should be draft in the league the way I pass those off |
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Coca! Now you know it's me |
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I was always G, you a sometimes thug |
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You fake hustle in your hustle and you sometimes drug |
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You ask if a nigga kill yeah I sometimes does, CRACK! |
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[Chorus] |
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Primo whattup my nigga, ha ha |
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We had to touch it again you heard me |
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"Shit Is Real" you heard me |
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Shit on these fuck-boys, you heard me? |
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Thank God for that whiiiiiiiite |
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Crack! Coca! Krillz-mania |
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Macho whattup nigga? |
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(Big L rest in peace...) |
