[U-God] 

Yo, rated x, smack you off the stage when I'm vexed 

No sweat, I crack a cold case of Beck's 

Guess whose back, the jack of all trades is next 

The rap cuisine, I crack a raw egg and flex 

I cave in your chest, this one came from the jets 

Yeah, the cause and effect, make innocent blood pour 

The streets is like the rap game, a daily tug of war 

For rich or for poor, or death do us part, niggaz come for test 



[Chorus: U-God] 

Still grimey (grimey, grimey) 

Still slimey (slimey, slimey) 

Don't try me (try me, try me) 

It's been ten long years, you can't untie me 



[Sean Price] 

Bring fire and Ruck let the heat pour 

Niggaz like Ruck 'Fuck you rhyming to this beat for?' 

Listen, life is like a muthafuckin' seesaw 

One minute you're hot, the next, your rep drops 

None of your biz, fuck around, and run in your crib 

Wife like 'He ain't here', throw some to your wiz 

Niggaz running up on me, til the tre' pound click 

Talking 'bout 'Ruck, let's battle' on some 8 Mile shit 

I'm like; nigga, my name ain't B. Rabbit 

It's Sean Price, Big Ruckus from busting these ratchets 

Call me gay basher, for fucking up these faggots 

Ya'll niggaz ain't nothing, stop fronting, stay passive 

Yo, pass the dutch, on the left hand side 

Sean gone til November, stole Wyclef's ride 

Bob Backlund, car jacking, New Jersey driving 

Ya'll niggaz ain't think about rapping, til you hear me rhyming, oh 



[Chorus] 



[Prodigal Sunn] 

I keeps it real in the field, Navy feel on the drill 

Never stingy with my bills, plenty gravy I spilled 

Recorded in the history of rap, two inch reels 

Seven to ten mills, eleven to twenty hills 

Rest in peace to my brother Half-A-Mil 

Unnecessary blood spilt, another thug killed 

Move with the mass appeal, the blast still 

For the Cash Money Click, No Limits and no thrills 

Mad cuz your hoe, feeling P. Sunzini, give you 

As sweet as a kiwi, face it, you not me, nigga 

Ladi dadi, the Gods like to party 

We don't cause trouble, but we can make you a body 

Ladi dadi, the Sunn likes to party 

I don't cause trouble, but I will make you a body 

Flowin' high in the Mazarati, two with my ninjas beside me 

Lively, floating on some Ducatti's 

With two gellati's, two hotties, we never sloppy 

Jewelry rocky, Spanish pieces, they call me papi 

Clear fire Bacardi, sobered up like Gotti 

Rest in peace to my dog, Shotti, Shotti 



[Chorus] 



[C-Rayz Walz] 

On the corner ready to bo', holding my nuts 

Standing by my building looking at myself in the truck 

My reflections... (still grimey) 

Oscar the Grouch's worms (still slimey) 

I got a jones for Miss Piggy's ham hiney 

I can be a bum in the slums, and slam shiny 

On every corner, I'm grams, you can find me 

The boss of the burners, I fire shots if your nine speak 

This is true Manchu, and who you, fams too? 

Better have they face in the game, like the Blue Man Group 

I heard you smell me, I make it funky 

Rock hard and kick ass like, I hate you donkeys 

My oatmeal lumpy like Johnson's Bumpy, Harlem humpty 

Hungry wolves, pain's hummer, harbor hungry 

Dumpty, blazing trees, now leave an O.E. present 

Know why the hood feel me, like police presence 



[Chorus]