I mean what, you goin' crazy over this? I mean, really it look like, cracked off pieces of soap (Mark Henry...) Yeah, you's a pussy boy, you heard that pussy boy? Ya daddy should have never nutted in that hoe's pussy, boy But since you on this earth, it's time to take you off it This what you want, huh nigga, that hardcore New York shit That black cement, 3 Jordan shit True religion -- jeans, Polo tee and a Portland fit No defense when I grip the handle, boy I got a deadly shot, no Brandon Roy My niggas in Detroit call me Megatron Back in '88, we moved mega tons Now I push the 'Rari down 8th Ave Bitch face on my lap, call it face math The Colombians and the Dominicans have shown us the way The shit is large, but we gon' do it differently Gone are the days of sellin' on a street corner You change the product, you change the marketin' strategy Yeah, uhh The streets lookin' like Thriller Minus the chick and red jacket with the zippers Just zombies, psychos and killers Quick to choke you out, ya [?], Reggie Miller It's a drought, we need a hurricane Boat movin' slow, niggas screamin' "hurry, 'caine" 3 pistols on me just in case you tryin' to bang I got that 9-9-9 plan like Herman Cain Yeah, we occupyin' raw street Good morning, no sugar in the coffee Just cocaine, Medina and some morphine One whiff of the pure, make ya jaw lean I'm not guilty. You're the one who's guilty The lawmakers, the politicians All you who lobby against makin' drugs legal Just like you did with alcohol durin' the prohibition You're the one who's guilty, ain't no Uzis made in Harlem I mean, not one of us in here owns a poppy field This thing is bigger than Nino Brown This is big business, this is the American way