[Hook: Jermaine Dupri]

We talk shit, 'cause we are the shit

Never looked back since we started it

When ya'll want heat we provide it, ride it

'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off

Six figure niggas with it, over did it, spit it

In ways that'll cause a rush

Keeping your face in a state of disgust

Hating but still trying to be like us

[Verse One: Jay-Z]

Twist the lime in the Corona, grab my crime diploma

Then head to the block, to pull up five in the morn'

Shit, I need to chrome up, become a home owner

Look, life's a bitch, but I'm on her

I almost cracked this, no more hustling backwards

Up the Ave I zip, nigga trying to have shit

I'm your average ghetto nigga turned maverick

You'd never, said to a nigga "Whatever for the cash, I'm with it"

I don't have step, I leave it in your averix

Then shoot it in the air, whatever I have left

Outlaw, simply I out-draw y'all

Whether clubs or the street, I out ball y'all

Niggas ain't ready, I doubt all y'all

Fly ass niggas I re-route all y'all

If it ain't for the paper I don't show my face up

Make a bet, I turn the ace up, $hort and Jay, what!

[Verse Two: Too $hort]

I never stop making money, don't give 'em no slack

Drinking dirty motherfuckers til a ho' come back

With my scratch, bitch I was born to mack

To uphold the pimping, I was sworn to that

I hear a lot of shit talking when I listen to rap

Only a few MC's get to hang that plaque

On the wall rappers ball, but they don't live phat

Nigga, I doubt if you go Gold or Platinum

What we do has only been mastered by a few

I take a half a million tapes, sell 'em straight to you

All that shit niggas talking just can't be real

I dont need a record deal, I need eighteen wheels

I roll right up in the hood, I got tapes for sell

Bitches running in their house, they can't wait to tell

Somebody, she got a new Too $hort tape

And he's spitting pimp game with his homeboy Jay

[Hook]

[Verse Three: Too $hort]

Now here they come again, the golddiggers trying to get paid

Wanna trick the old rich niggas, trying to get laid

She'll suck his dick, as soon as she meet him

Don't have to sell a body for me, I don't need her

To turn tricks for me, how much you cost bitch?

I'm all about large bank deposits

On and off the mic I always set trends

Either you see me with bitches, or I'm rolling with pimps

Brook-lyn to Oakland, I keep smokin'

Jay-Z and Short Dog at these hoes again

The kinda niggas that'll take a square bitch around the corner

Put this pimp game on her

I don't fuck with broke hoes and I don't trick

But I'll still rub my big ass dick on her clit

Get her hooked, wanna be mine I need some money

If she ain't kicking in all the time she don't want me

[Verse Four: Jay-Z]

Hoes, flows, money, cars

Y'all wannabe stars, can't fuck with none of these bars

This is real nigga rap, we can spit it through the mic

And you can feel niggas scratch, and sell a mil', if that

So real when we drop this shit it's in trouble

When I guess the pair you gotta ship it double

I'm the independent phenom, y'all miniature dons

Wannabe Jigga, pops styles and Hennessy richer

When I die, leave my canopy richer

I put it down hard ever since I entered the picture

Can't fuck with me for records to the recreational center

I got it wrapped y'all from the Grammys to the back park

Short dog y'all, what you thought y'all, Oakland, BK, New York y'all

Be the voice for the streets we supply for years

And go Platinum on our most quiet years

[Hook: 3x]