Uhh, check it out, uhh
 *singing* I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!
 Fuck all that pretty shit
 Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers
 Niggaz know the deal
 Niggaz know who the Don is
 Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one
 Peep game, uhh, what, what

 Verse One: Puff Daddy

 Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars
 Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars
 We built them radars to stay free from the cops
 Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop
 Are we gonna stop?  Shit man never my squad go broke
 Your squad arti-choke
 Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke
 Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show
 Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre
 Through hard work I earn the vault
 Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt
 Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings
 Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things
 Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake
 When you all fucked up, and can't get no break
 When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it
 Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it
 Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit
 That's what I did, now they all askin for hits
 Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known
 We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own
 Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous
 Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us
 Why niggaz bring the ruckus?
 Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers

 Chorus:

 	Just some ghetto boys
 	Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets
 	And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
 	It's just reality

 Verse Two: Jay-Z

 Yeah, make you a deal, check
 These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed
 I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead
 So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead
 Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head
 I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread
 Some say I been here before because of the way I zone
 Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome
 Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing
 Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones
 Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own
 In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body
 In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body
 But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me
 to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause
 I got it locked like the late Bob Marley
 Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley
 Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone
 Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born
 Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order
 So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters
 You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it
 Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it
 Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie
 Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)
 I hated algebra but I loved to multiply
 And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die
 It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way
 Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way

 Chorus

 Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.

 Damn it feel good to see people up on it
 Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it
 My brain is haunted, with mean dreams
 GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer
 than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me
 If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it
 My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat
 High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit
 in my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci
 Bulletproof vestes under they coochie
 Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent
 Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent
 And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies
 I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me
 While you still killin niggaz with punany, like heiny
 and Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus
 While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke
 Got lawyers watchin lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it
 Them country niggaz call me Frank White
 I'm squirtin off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight
 Sunrise open my eyes no surprise
 Got my shorty flyin in with keys taped to her thighs
 With all the utensils, who hang my china thing
 She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental
 The situation ain't accidental..
 What?  From a, from a young G's perspective.. (repeat 2X)

 Chorus 2X to fade