[Verse 1: Jadakiss]
So sick of it
Run up in your crib, just for the sake of stickin' it
Yeah, I'm ridiculous
I know this is Kanye's track, but I'm kissin' it
Still laughin' at these cats, like I'm ticklish
Just somethin' about that sh**, I like flippin' it
The world's back on my dick, I'm Mike Vick'n it
co*k back and squeeze, only right that you squirt off
Soon as I leave the building, they turn the alert off
Only thing I need to know is can you knock the work off
Fifth Ave, spendin' crack money up in Bergdorf
Leave that boy alone; I wouldn't recommend it
Half a mil worth of V-V's, independent
Everything is splendid, all fine and dandy
Hood-rich is one point nine off the candy
[?] sweat suit, thermal on with the [?]
Grilled tilapia, steamed salmon, or the scampi
Snakes still squirmin'; haze off sherm, and
Block is like the nickel boy days in the Vernon
Chrome four-fif'n, cause they still snitchin'
The pool's in the living room, swim to the kitchen
I'm so appalled; I'm better than 'em all
I rip an arena just like a hole in the wall
Spend a few stacks on some hoes in the mall
Real n***as is either in the hole or the morgue
Enemies is cool, loved ones'll hurt you
Dishonor before d**h, yeah, vice-versa
Elegant performance, my stash is enormous
Real talk: New York's been mine for the longest
Strong ones'll make it, weak ones'll suffocate
I keep it in the 'hood, so it's easy to resuscitate
Life's like a milk crate, nothin' like a beach, kid
Good cardigan over the True's, nice feet-wear
Yeah..
[Verse 2: Styles P]
Yeah
Hustle like an African, mother from the motherland
Work in the zip-lock, money in the rubber band
If the cops don't blitz, then I'm lucky
I want the eighth floor of the Ritz, like Nucky
Empire, like A-C from K-C
Kitchen cook; step up in the spot, all the b**hes look
Eastbound down like Kenny Powers
Bricks is in the Dodge Neon, but it's Hemi-powered, any hour
This could be a seven-digit flip
Send a kite to the bing to get seven n***as ripped
Get the top ten list and get seven n***as clipped
I used to just ride on the seven bus
Now I let it bubble like Seven-Up
That was five sevens, you could die with a three in front
Need money, need p**y, need liquor, need a blunt
Wanna f** with me, n***a? You gon' need a gun
Money over b**hes, but respect over money, though
Loyalty'll have you on the boat to the bungalow
What you know about eatin' with the old man?
Tell the truth, this rap sh** wasn't in the program
Sittin' on crates, to pickin' up weight
You gotta lift open the crate; tryin' to get my n***as straight
Ridiculous, I would even say this on tape (Ayo Kiss)
And you say New York City, that the world is very different now
Gun-light is my phone, real easy to lift it now
I'm so appalled
Shoot the pallbearers at your motherf**in' funeral and treat 'em like dogs
Cause it's a motherf**in' war
n***a! D-Block! Act like ya know, b**h!