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Intro |
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Yeh, ohh! |
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Check me out, look |
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It goes love, hate, pleasure and pain |
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Fo' albums in the can and I'm STILL in the game (what up?) |
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And last album, they don't like me to tell this |
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Debuted at #1 and sold more records than Elvis (shut up!) |
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That's what they tellin me, switch up your melody |
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Through with misdemeanors, they tryin to give rappers felonies |
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So they can lock us up one at a time |
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But true writers stay FREE in e'ry one of our lines |
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And if you not feelin I'm the cream of the crop |
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I'll KNOCK rappers off your list 'til I get to the top! |
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Still you lookin at a man that's financially stable |
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Only nigga gettin checks cut from four different labels |
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That Pillsbury dough, women poke my guts |
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Still I walk around the streets like I'm broke as FUCK |
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So if you see me in your town and I appear to be moody |
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It's cause I'm thinkin 'bout plans that's bigger than Serena booty |
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Me and Shaka still starvin and lookin for meals |
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And HEADS UP! Ludacris is almost out of his deal |
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I'm over ten million sold, every album is CRACK |
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And for now I'm bout to carry Def Jam on my BACK |
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Mad rappers I hear you talkin way down at the bottom |
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Though I make big money, still handle small problems |
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The ramblin at the mouth, I don't PLAY THAT SHIT |
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I'm the best and I ain't really got SAY THAT SHIT! |
