[Verse 1]

Tell him I want his children, I know he fear the flow

I got the guns right here, deploy

The women don't care, Scarface shipped his years ago

Sonny lost his finger then this little nigga's ears can go

Been in the room with the spitter

Came to New York, he drunk, swimming pool full of liquor, right

Frederico freestyle and spit on ya

It's like LA when the 40.Cal lift on ya

It's political the way it works

But I'm lyrical, I'm from the underground, I do the dirty work

A hard hat, constructions – bars back in conjuction

With the hood, got the [?] and hard packs, yeah, we pumpin'

You got Snoop, we got Jay, we got Nas, you got Dre

But you the king of everything, that's how you wanna play?

Cool – I go to your show, I know you tour in Spain, money

So I aim at the crowd and hit your rump

Everything semi-auto

The home of the 12-12 skinny's, nigga, it's...

My advice is, I've been the nicest

My rhymes come from the gut as the pen decides it

Fred the God on it, I part, I'm in the vices

It's true, mine's ink, made up, I'm indecisive

And I still move the auto for the gram

You trying to wet us up, I gotta stop the war, I be damned

Big cats gets wood in Brooklyn, punks was in the X

They both was named B.I.G., you should a little respect

Big L got shot in here, you show a little respect

Like... massager, homie, I'm on your neck

Must be hanging with highrollers

We get crazy when we broke, we can only bipolar

Baking soda, the wood works

Chef in seconds, I can give Inglewood work

And for you rappers trying to put me in dirt

Knew I was paralyzed then stood me up on the verse

I'm still setting the trap, I'm still cutting up work

You get money from rap, and we be up late on the first

The first – back to...

Y'all be at AA meetings, must be missing the bar

It's a difference when you spitting at God

Number one on their list, but I rarely listen to y'all

I'm a back in the past rhymer

Illmatic cassette in the pathfinder

B.I.G. CD next to the bundle

Pac's got me hardknocked, vinyls from the tunnels

TBM is willing to ride

This is verbal murder, I know I'm killing your vibe

You got New York sick so you the cancer

It's like Philly '96 draft, I'm the answer

Go!