Cam'ron wants you to check out his shoes – he bought them with the money he earned selling “boy” (slang for cocaine)

Memphis Bleek turned this beat down

And don’t forget about the Mariah Carey version

This… Read More [Intro: Cam'ron]

Just Blaze (Oh baby)

Oh baby (Uh)

Killa

[Verse 1: Cam'ron]

All the girls see the (Boy), look at his kicks (Boy)

Look at his car (Boy), all I say is (Oh boy)

Look, mami, I'm no good, I'm so hood

Clap at your soldiers sober, then leave after it's over, Killa

I'm not your companion, or your man's stand-in

Hit me when you wanna get rammed in, I'll be scramblin' (That's right)

With lots of mobsters, shop for lobsters

Cops and robbers, listen, every block is blaka (Blaka)

But she like the way I diddy bop, you peep that? (Oh, you peep that, right?)

Mink on, Mauri kicks, plus Chanel ski hat

She want the (Boy), so I give her the (Boy)

Now she screamin' out (Boy, boy, boy, boy), Killa, Killa

Now she playin' with herself, Cam dig it out, lift her up

Ma, it's just a fuck, girl, get it out, pick on up

They want the boy Montana with guns with bandanas

Listen to my homeboy Santana

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]

Y'all niggas can't fuck with the (Boy), I'm tellin' ya (Boy)

Put a shell in ya (Boy), now he bleedin' (Oh boy)

Get him, call his (Boy), he wheezin', he need his (Boy)

He screamin' (Boy, boy, boy, boy)

Damn, shut up (Boy), he's snitchin' (Oh boy)

This nigga's bitchin' (Boy), he's twisted (Oh boy)

If feds was listenin' (Boy), damn, whoa, whoa, come on

I'm in trouble, need bail money, shit

Where the fuck is my (Boy)? I got trust for my (Boy)

That's why I fuck with my (Boy), that's my nigga (Oh boy)

He gon' come get his (Boy), he got love for his (Boy)

That's my (Boy, boy, boy, boy) uh-huh, uh-huh

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]

When he got caught with the (Boy), we went to court for the (Boy)

Just me and my (Boy), and we sayin' (Oh boy)

Be on the block with my (Boy) with the rock or the (Boy)

When the cops come— Squalie!

Yeah, this is for the sports cars

Bonita's, Jimmy's, PJ's, old school, eighteenth at the sports bar

Eight or nine on the (Boy)

Holla at your boy (Boy, boy, boy, boy), Killa, holla, listen

It's the D-I-P (Boy) plus the R-O-C (Boy)

You'll be D-O-A (Boy), your moms will say (Oh boy)

Shit, ain't no stoppin' 'em, guns, we got a lot of 'em (Boy, boy, boy, boy, shit)

Matter of fact, Guru start poppin' 'em

Then slap up his (Boy), clap up his (Boy)

Wrap up his (Boy), get them gats (Oh boy)

Diplomats are them (Boy) for the girls and the (Boy)

Say (Boy, boy, boy, boy), yeah, yeah

[Verse 4: Juelz Santana]

Now when they see Cam and his (Boy), they say damn (Oh boy)

Santana's that (Boy) that squeeze hammers (Oh boy)

Cannons and bandanas, blammers, we don't brandish (Boy, boy, boy)

Blam at your man's canvas, then scram with your man's leaded

And I'm back with my (Boy)

[Verse 5: Cam'ron]

Until that man is vanished

Away in the Grand Canyon, these kids are grand standin'

Niggas demand ransom over them grams scramblin'

(Boy, boy, boy, boy)

Well, fuck it, Van Damme 'em, Cam'll blam blam 'em

Call up his (Boy), I'm down south tannin'

Mami, I got the remedy, Tommy's up at the enemy

Homi's and bodies, but now my body, you're feelin' finicky

Killa and Capo, we chill in Morocco for reala

We got dough, chinchilla dough and fill with them hollows, huh

It's the (Boy)

I said, it's the (Boy)

I'm the (Boy, boy, boy, boy)

Killa

[Outro]

Boy

Oh boy

Boy

Oh boy

Boy, boy, boy

Boy, boy, boy, boy