Got you...nn[Chorus One]nYo where you at? Right here; what'd you spit? Light yearsnI'm fresh - like a new pair of white AirsnStay crazy, blaze daily; say babies, praise ladiesnBuck 50, keep the change - here's a buck 80nn[Chorus Two]nYo where you at? Right here; what'd you spit? Light yearsnI'm fresh...nStay crazy, blaze daily; say babies, praise ladiesnBuck 50, keep the change - here's a buck 80nnChicks dig how I spit it, ladies love the phlegmnI don't ball with none of y'all, I'm still above the rimsnAnd the roundhouse kicks, had the streets, huggin these jimsnDrop jewels, even fools be lovin the gems (dig it)nLet's get it on and poppin, and keep it activatednI hope you mean advanced, speakin on any plans rap-relatednI body my verses, rip the beat, shape itnPress rewind, play it, say it, get me reincarnatednLike retards gettin pussy, I dumb in the cutnYou wake up in jail cells, with a thumb in your buttnYou ain't a thug, I run the club with rum in the cupnReady to rush your DJ, just to make your music jump (punk)nThat's why I go to clubs with like ten beamsnAnd the white mens I run with can't jump, cause they own the teamnAnd if you ain't Kim, it seems you don't know menI spit 16's in your face like twin Colbysnn[Chorus One] - 2XnnChances get slim like {?}, that shapeshiftncause Snoop done wrecked +Gin & Juice+ like BET, and my Chi homeynWho's fuckin with dis? Have you duckin the hitsnLeave you stuck in desert with a bucket of piss (bitch)nSit in the passenger seat, while I'm crashin your JeepnHot potato was the only way you herbs was passin the heat (c'mon son)nYou a mangina, and a prom queen-ahnwho learn how to thug from fans and don divasnThis is that Hell Rell shit, that spell well kidnI snuff buildings, if I wanna sell bricksnDeal with thick {?}, no time for fine dimesnMy lines got +Big+ potential like I write for ShynenAnd I'm master of the cypher, Lord of the RingsnAnd my third-eye blings, like +The Scorpion King+nAnd that's exactly what sounds funny seenCause next time I rap, it'll be on the soundtrack for Mummy 3nn[Chorus One] + [Chorus Two]nnThe game's painstaking, I remain ancientnClaims to have your dame dancin naked on 'posin train stationsnCats'll push a button, mush ya wifey buttonnNever mind your business, divine intervention's when you butt innI don't spit no more, I circle while at gamesnQuick to give you barbed wire thongs for your granny pantiesnYou bitch made, couldn't stab a track with a switchbladenAfter you dictate, tell me how my dick tastenPut 7 in your chest, if you owe them checksnAnd I ain't talkin 'bout the Clippers, leave your jersey a messnI'm a veteran, respect me, my basic spitnmake these young players better, like Jason KiddnAnd if I'm gettin paper, it's cause I'm rippin flavornI'm nice around the mic like the Wizard playersnSpit a verse that deserve a replaynGet on some humble shit like YO, GIVE IT UP FOR THE DJnn[Chorus One] - 2X