What! Niggaz can't fuck with us
 DMX:
 Get at me dog. My niggaz
 Styles:
 That's my word!

 Verse One: DMX

 I'm the type to kick back and look at shit  
 'cause crooked shit gets me amped
 And what you don't know  will get you locked in sleep away camp.
 Grand champ and raise more hell  than a Sorrel
 See you at the peephole  bustin' at the doorbell
 Though I wasn't coming without mine
 You put me on the front line because you doubt mine
 Bet your and lost yours, you come to get your I tossed yours
 And it cost yours, fuck y'all niggaz stupid, I'm the boss dog
 What more dirt must I do, plus my crew
 Busts at you, and you be like "What's that oooh"
 What's that Clue, do I bring the noise what
 Destroy these mutts, is these niggaz toys or what
 Bring all the pretty niggaz thinking they shitty, what a pity
 Lemme show them niggaz shitty some pity, but for fifty
 A motherfucker will get a bullet to hum to him, put the gun to him
 Hit 'em with something that comes to him, bet it runs through him
 Look at what I done to him, no more smiles
 Got the whole top half of his head, running wild
 But you don't hear me though, so I turn out the lights
 We can take it to the streets dog, turn off the mics
 If you want war, then you want more, than you can stand
 And this 44, will leave you with your dick in the sand
 Who the man, and now you cats know for real
 Get at me dog, (bark), what the deal

 Verse Two: Styles

 Y'all niggaz fucking with the L.O.X.
 Your stuck on a rock
 Got that Alcatraz flow
 You just don't know
 Lifetime kid caged in blazin'
 Any type of rapper or federal agent
 Paniro the made man, blade man
 Stand up type of guy, your living a lie
 Niggaz wanna be pretty and fly but kiddies will die
 The dogs run the city, bet fifty on mine
 Two grams for you to sniff, how silly am I
 Got a lot of jokes don't, kill yo ass won't I
 Maybe not if the spot is filled up with po 9
 Many niggaz get it confused, blame the rules
 Only ask the how's not the who's
 Better off busting your tool, then we might get the crew
 But as far as rap goes, you a motherfucking fool
 If you don't want chips, you should have stayed in school
 You and 8-ball nigga, you wanna play pool
 I'll put you in the side pocket, look at the size of my rocket
 Styles don't lie, cop the work then clock it
 Boxes full of boots, jeans, suits and watches
 Niggaz don't pump if they can't make a profit
 Stop it, before we pull it back then cop it
 Vacant lot niggaz come through then we lock it
 (WHAT, WHAT, WHAT)

 Verse Three: Jadakiss

 With no glocks I'm in your town with five locks
 Take five blocks, come back with five trucks, with knots
 It's the L.O.X, three niggaz that listen and watch
 And nigga you know, whenever we spit, it's hot
 It be that new flow, my niggaz, fly niggaz
 Always high niggaz, ready to die niggaz
 As far as I'm hearing, y'all doing a lot of comparing
 Lemme get the one clearance like a sample
 'Kiss is the champ and I know that you don't wanna get stamped
 Left somewhere cramp, so when it rains, you get damp
 Niggaz is done, since poppy raised his son
 When bringing in drums, to bring all g's to bums
 Whether you can flow or not ain't the issue
 You don't Jay to kiss you, his lyrics pierce the gristle
 Take a puff then a swig
 Think about how I'm gonna
 hold it down for Big, my motherfucking nig
 Your money is low, and your flow been late
 While I be coming through with new shit with tint plates
 The only higher than money, is respect
 The only thing hotter than my click, is a tek
 So when I hit you with these last bars around your neck
 You gonna know never to fuck around with L-O-X nigga
 (WHAT, YEAH)

 Verse Four: Sheek Luchion

 My bank account be doubling
 While you niggaz stay in trouble and
 L.O.X. stay fly
 Three niggaz jig-I
 Shit you never seen before, Feds hit the repo law
 Kingpin, 10 mil. each of us popular
 It's Sheek baby
 Chicks hate to see me on the Soul Train
 With Don Cornelius
 And all they got is alias
 To work with
 To catch Sheek, y'all niggaz besta work quick
 Now that I'm eating right, plus living well
 So nowadays when I burp, it's fettucini you smell
 Ain't that right poppa-san, used to push a Nissan
 With a black master full 850 full suspension
 While you collect your pension, I ain't worked in years
 My stomach is fat from Puerto Rican food, while yours is scarce
 Small black haired, chinky-eyed Puerto Rican mama
 Keep them laced in the scadda, half the closet on product
 I learn things, just by watching y'all niggaz make the wrong moves
 Now I know what not to do, to make more than y'all fools
 Y'all think we ignorant, 'cause we don't budge unless we benefit
 Cats that take the light that's scarce and see what's at the end of it
 P.H. me, because a nigga wisks me up in Jake B.
 Your shit be so-so, low pro.
 On a bus before the cars show
 On some old joystick shit, no mirrors
 I can see behind me through the cameras
 Flip plates, make the whole block go bananas