[Intro: (Juelz Santana): ]



                      YEAH! AY! Dip-Set bitch! Come on...



                      Black-out, lets do it...



                      Dip, dip-set!



                      Dip, dip, dip, dip-s



                      Dip, dip, dip, dip-s



                      Dip, dip, dip, dip

                    [Verse 1: (Juelz Santana): ]



                      Now this here is that bomb diggy (diggy)



                      Diggy dang, the dons with me



                      Killa, he'll a nigga you thinkin' bout harming me



                      Capo's corrupted (yop), he's wrong vato to fuck wit (yop)



                      Labeled and known as a young Pac to the public



                      And me, Human Crack in the flesh (flesh)



                      I'm the last of the best (best)



                      One word to describe me (what!), spectacular, YES!



                      So stay calm shorty, when you see that palmed .40 (.40?)



                      I'll pop it slow, you'll rock and roll, like Bon Jovi



                      So don't fool with the click (AY!)



                      Don't fool with the Dips (AY!)



                      You will die, you will lie in a pool full of shit (AY!)



                      When that gun with the clip in (what)



                      Start dumpin' and rippin' (yop)



                      At ya'll head, ya'll some dead summamabitches (AY!)



                      You give a chick hard dick and bubblegum (AY!)



                      I give a chick a hard brick and bubble-yum (AY!)



                      Like here, take that, shake that, break that (ay!)



                      In half and please bring my cake back

                    [Chorus:] (repeat 2x)



                      (Juelz Santana): You kow what the movements like



                      (Juelz Santana): You know how movin', right



                      (Juelz Santana): Move, cause we in the mood to fight



                      (Jim Jones): This is that get crunk move bitch



                      (Jim Jones): Get drunk stupid



                    (Jim Jones): High like space, .45 on waist

                    [Verse 2: (Jim Jones):]



                      This is that bang, bang, bang



                      To my hooligan, gang



                      While you movin' them thangs



                      And ya toolies go bang (silence)



                      Call me Richochet Rabbit



                      Cause I click and spray matics



                      And my niggas straight savage (Gonnies!)



                      Penelope pump let off six whole rounds (boom!)



                      'Fore (boom!) one (boom!) shell (boom!) hit (boom!) the (boom!) ground



                      In the hood he known as a Capo



                      To the goons and the heights its all tato (TATO!)



                      Ok I know me some vato



                      Live the life movin' on patos (demelo)



                      Ok muchacho, they told me that you got it paco (meda)



                      I know one movin' someone usually know gone pop you (te matan)



                      This that 9 double 1, with a 9 double m



                      If its crime lets have fun, lets have fun, lets have fun



                      This that o trizzy 1, triple o, whoa, whoa



                      If you scared get ya gun (get ya gun, get ya gun)



                      This that uptop crunk



                      When the truck stop, dump



                      This where the bucks stop chump (dump, dump, dump)

                    [Chorus:]



                      (Juelz Santana): You know what the movemets like



                      (Juelz Santana): You know how me movin', right



                      (Juelz Santana): Move, cause we in the mood to fight



                      (Jim Jones): This is that get crunk move bitch



                      (Jim Jones): Get drunk stupid (Killa)



                    (Jim Jones): High like (Dip-Set) space, .45 on waist

                    [Verse 3: Cam'ron]



                      That rooti, tooti, fruity, Louie, what I usually do (what's this?)



                      This that jump, stop, breathe, whoody-who



                      Gats in the truck



                      Platt, platt, pass to a duck



                      I'm the menace, owe me money, tat, tat, tat, what the fuck (You owe me



                      money muthafucka!?)



                      Ya'll reppin' that 5 still



                      I'm reppin' that 5 mill



                      Neverland, Thriller, Killa Cam, Jackson 5 bill (so what!)



                      Lets style a bit, Italian shit, 5 thou on fish



                      Show you how to get that powder shit



                      Filed the fifth, get out of it



                      I'm proud of it, its yo' turn, Jim so burned



                      Live bitch, why kiss, on my wrist a glowworm ($50,000)



                      And I keep heat, cause in these streets (what you hear?)



                      Just hear woop, woop, whant, whant, beep, beep (that's the cops)



                      And you rumble, never, me, hit a humble diva (a few of 'em)



                      And I stay with the white, I got Jungle Fever (nose candy)



                      So tell Lucccaay (what)



                      That her boobi's, loco, cookie monster, who he (who am I?)



                      I'm the 1 the rep the set



                      Left to left, death to death



                      You be yellow-taped, outlined, etch-a-sketched...



                      Killa

                    [Chorus:] (repeat 2x)



                      (Juelz Santana): You know what the movements like



                      (Juelz Santana): You know how we movin', right



                      (Juelz Santana): Move, cause we in the mood to fight



                      (Jim Jones): This is that get crunk move bitch



                      (Jim Jones): Get drunk stupid



                    (Jim Jones): High like space, .45 on waist