Nigga I don't got no feelings 
What the fuck you think this is 
I got no reason to live 
So make your mind up  what you want to do 
I make your family be missing you 

Nigga I don't got no feelings 
What the fuck you think this is 
I got no reason to live 
So make your mind up  what you want to do 
I make your family be missing you 

Yo  dusting you off like dirty fingerprints on evidence 
Battling me  you dead like presidents 
I'm fresh like prince  jazzy like jeff 
The man just like Meth  crazy like Lep 
Plus jams just like Def 
With a pin I'm a king like Kurupt 
When I throw a style, you better duck 
And if you don't your ass is out of luck 
Don't fuck with the master if I have to 
Then I blast you, then go to Church and see my pastor 
Why you have to be like this, me and the mic's tight 
Like lettuce, lighting the pimps 
This year my son turned six 
If your style's wack then you need to get that shit fixed 
Brothers hittin Jersey, my raps hitting harder than bricks 

I'm iller, willer than your local drug dealer 
Come to my villa, meet the 9-milla 
Letting off, where I stop you getting off 
Make you feel it just like Latifah's kiss in Set It Off 
You want war come on, put on the boxing gloves 
People call me an artist on the canvas 'cause I draw blood 
That's what's up with the shit I maneuver 
Hit the losers with a Lueger then lay up in Aruba 
I'm gonna be rappin till you muthafuckaz 
get sick of me on the M-I-see 
I'm sicker than ten niggaz with HIV 
Tracey, pack the chico, the freak though 
Holding heats and we're in wall street 
With Sloppy Joe, you feel me yo? 

Uh what check it, my name is Steven 
I eat MC's for no apparent reason 
Better you if you skeezin, I'm pleasing 
Those who dare, I advise you not to stare 
You be ass out like a flat tire without a spare 
I declare war before I have to even a score 
You got me hot like sand on the shore 
I'm running the floor like a ballerina 
I go back like Flavor Flav and comb Adina 
I get honeys to make you say "You seen her?" 

I'm pregnant but only in my mind 
Hopin my baby rhyme grows to be a triple platinum album 
A felon, using the steel to do crimes 
Smoke so many niggaz they put up no smoking signs 
Charismatic, gasmatic, ballin like Madden 
Cream automatic, attractive like a magnet 
Speeding like car racing, cream like carnation 
Burn out my PlayStation while cats be scarfacing 
Hey old lady sorry's all I can say 
My bills got me looking in pocket books in a different way 
Foxy in the boulevard Benzo 
I'm in the back of Kurupt's flex truck playin 64 Nintendo 

Gettin pealed, skills and it feels 
Raw doggs, raw deals, niggaz either ill, fake, or real 
Penetrates, own the 10's and 38's 
Ridahs and niggaz turn the states and flippin crates 
Get lift like weights, bust and radiates 
Spreading infection, murderous mafia connections 
I want it felt, touch life's villains 
Start drilling, start ampin out 
Hitting them with autos campin out 
With autos innovative, calculative, creative 
Touch a nigga, hectic, with a couple of seconds to bust nigga 
From a distance, I could peep a fuck up 
You want to have but nuttin but cash to get stuck up 
Man I'm diamonds, yo, God is nice 
Hot, never seen cats with so much ice 
I got blocks to get all that's got behind the scenes 
Sellin glocks, tech 9's, 16's and magazines