(feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon)
[Ghostface Killah]

Yo yo yo! Word to ride nigga, yeah



Aiyyo we four or five niggaz with furs on

Up top gated up, big tables got the reserves on

Blowin on saxophones, the band is rough

So much ice on looks like my wrist been cut

And we just made it back from Beijing

Seen my jeweler, told him melt the bird down to eight rings

And the music stopped, Jada stood up (yeah)

Before the speech, he had everybody raise they cups

He said, I been in spots where I can't even mention it

"Don't drink the Cris', Ghost mighta pissed in it!"

Romanian dude, black down, pourin the saki

Face slumped to the side like Rocky

Then Strahan came through, with his bullshit ring

He said YIKES, when I pulled out my monster bling

Don't be afraid of the New York street talk

I switch gear all day bro, like you do on your peach porch

The chairs is suede, the walls is velvet

Marquise ballroom, so live I felt it

Fat asses in fishnets, shakin they pelvis

Playin with they pussy, middle finger drippin, I smelt it

Poker tables, crap joints just for rap niggaz

Me and Sheek, walkin around bitch-slappin niggaz

There go Rae, there go P

Yo Chop whattup! Whattup?



[Raekwon]

Sam Cooke writin hand, all of my lightning, damn

Used to rob niggaz in Sam's, buy shams

for my dude's baby shoe or booster baby, rollin with steel

Eatin Jamaican food under the wheel

You know the deal, book somethin then blow

When from a O to a low, little apartment in Brookdale

Gold was my motto, lotto numbers is what?

Had it in me, rolled down coolin with coke

That's the 90's, Chef era take over America

Bag Ugly Betty up, make her Ms. Guerrera

Pinky wench in sweaters, cortex burnin the mic booth

Travel right past my heritage

Them old school niggaz is me

Taught me how to read, get skee'd, everybody missin a ki

Yo I do this with a natural movement

Catch me by the {?}, scope on me, fuck it I'm losin it



[Jadakiss]

AH-HAHHHH! Uh, yeah, yo

I did it my way, lights off on the highway

Greek statues on both sides of the driveway

Word to the stamps on the diesel

The way these niggaz is lookin either they got cramps or they evil

One go we all go, D-boy fresh but hard dough

Cashmere and suede cargoes

On top of the beige Wallo's

45 government edition clippers, straight hollows

My (Clientele) is (Supreme) and it's proven

that I'm (Only Built 4 the Link) if it's (Cuban)

I'm a pioneer, I'm not a vet (uh-uh)

"Last Kiss" is a French one, it's not a peck (uh-uh)

Movin powder, piff and a lot of wet

You're gonna die, that's a promise, not a threat

Yeah, but I ain't with the chatterin

Cause I'd just rather splatter them

This is a Cartel gatherin, what?