Verse 1:
(G-Dep)
Really
Get smacked silly
You get smacked silly
Fuckin' wit these niggas from the
What you gon' do?
When you ready
Shit I was born ready
An' I was all ready your fish and spaghetti
Creep with the culture, rap I can coach ya
Attack like a vulture, see what I told ya
Said I'd get ya
Wear it if it fit ya
Y'all thirteen inches, I see the big picture
If it's to get richer, I'd probably get wit ya
If not burn it, get hot like a furnace
Shoot the video, motherfuck city permits
We own the city, on the phone wit Diddy
Red bone pretty
When she get aroused like to suck her own titty
Put 'er in the video
Ya wanna holla, got to follow, nigga here we go
Get you ticket, the train, don't miss it
Won't reach out, an' ya bet I won't visit
'Til my whole wardrobe is izzy, now listen
Chorus:
Make this money
Take this money (Let's get it)
Ain't no way you can take this from me (Let's get it)
Ain't shit funny
Shake it honey (Let's get it)
Take it money
Now let's get it (Let's get it)
Verse 2:
(G-Dep)
Creep with ya people
Though my shit is Sweet and Low it's no Equal
Front but you lookin'
Once I throw the hook you proceed to get cookin'
Wit the game when the soldiers
Shit you came, thought I owed you one
Wide big Lincoln
Why's this guide on the side for the stinkin'?
Watch task force, dash forward, lookin' marveled
It's a big chance, big pants, might guard him
Wit my man's light cargo
Betta learn quick 'cause my clique don't argue
You ain't my crew, who are you?
Beat it
'Fore we take off make sure you all seated
Billboard read it, believe it
Chorus
Verse 3:
(G-Dep)
Soul Controller, rap Ayatollah
Kids hate me when they older, I put cracks by the stroller
I'm registered voter
Muthafuck a quota
Give some bakin' soda and a quarter
Bet I flow straight up out the water
I'ma wreck the game 'til it say, "Out of order"
Put the high score up
Then tear the floor up
On the world tour with your whore out in Europe
Head on the tour bus
Do what them niggas then drop things ?
Call the five quarters
Headline supporters
Hittin' wives and daughters
Brought a neck spray from Esate Lauders
Call Puffy to order
(P Diddy)
Aiyyo, call me Diddy
I run this city
Send the cops, D.A., the feds to come get me
Cats wanna leave me for dead, you comin' wit me
Gettin' head in the Bentley red at one-fifty
Straight lose it
Love two things: my money, my music
Might co-write and produce it
Drop mine, hot 9 exclusive
Got y'all Hulkin' like Bruce did
'Cause I can break backs and stacks, it's no problem
Make raps or tracks an' go Harlem
I get worldwide coverage
Got so many spots I don't even buy luggage, ya love it
Make moves major
Hide out in Asia
If your girl keep comin' around then I'ma blaze her
I'm the Bad Boy flavor, light blue gators
Not guilt, plus I'm filthy
C'mon
Chorus
Verse 4:
(Black Rob)
I be the East Side Soprano, Rob Marciano
Flow in each channel wit the Iverson handle
Forty-five sparks turn your day gray flannel
Snatch the yay of the mantle, then proceed to dismantle
Can't slay Rob
How many niggas done tried to play mob
Quit they day job
Tired of puttin' broke niggas under the wing
If I go to jail again I'm going under the bing
Act like you gonna pull that thing-thing
You the one that always get stuck for bling-bling
I represent eighth block and Sing-Sing
Almost caught a buck fifty for fuckin' a Latin King's queen
Moves for paper
Booze, no chaser
Bullets out the blazer
Four-fifth wit the laser
Come and get your shit splitted
Newspapers said I did it
(He ain't do it)
Now let's get it
(Let's get it)
Chorus (twice)