[Royce Da 5'9]nStretch Stretch.. (Whassup sup?)nI'm tryin to figure out a way to start this rhyme off (Mmm)nYou ain't got no ideas? (Nah)nAight, I'll start it like this (Aight)nCheck it, yonn[P. Diddy's Bad Boy for Life beat plays]nnFUCK, you! (haha) I'm all nuts, no glorynYou're walkin now but nigga what's the story?nYou better, duck when I go BOOM, cause suckers bore menand yeah, I probably hate Tommy Boy as much as Nore donWho the best? Eminem, Jigga or Nas?nCause when it comes lottery time, that spot'll be minesnYou takin the throne is under the bridgenAnd yeah, you might be +Ready to Die+ but none of you +Big+nSo, you've been dared to listenn'til the fiercest rhythm'll spit air condition glitter and wrist coolnFUCK doom, I don't agenCut Boom up loud and see a mushroom cloud on stage [explosion]nDo the math, four knuckles'll give you six monthsnand, you niggaz is so pussy you make my dick jump (haha)nI don't wish to be king, I'll pass the thronenWhatever shines too bright shines half as longnI don't kiss hoes, I only put my lips on a cupnPee-wee niggaz, go somewhere and piss on your nuts (haha)nGod gave me this life, and if he decides to envy and give menI'm takin the flow of the century with menOh, so if you feel insane, and want a warnReality check, you not ready, your soldiers is still in traininnA bunch of hundreds that'll read the menunWe run tabs with receipts sayin To be continued..nAnd – bully niggaz this is your daynMeet me at the flagpole so you can hit me in my fists with your facenAnd snitch niggaz is common as E-Bay wearnUhh, give the cops more +Alerts+ than DJ RednI got the blood of a dead soldier, on my palmsnand the scent of yo' bitch lingerin on my fingertipsnAnd you niggaz is deep, I got a deep barrel that'll blazenSo FUCK deep, the deep shall lay in a shallow gravenFor you deep niggaz.nn[beat switches to Lord Tariq & Peter Gunz' What's That Sound?]nnUhh.. (Stretch Armstrong is now in your world..)nnYo, I determine what time it's on, I call my nigga ProofnHand him a pint of Limon and turn him loose!nI'm tired of you new jacksnI'm tired of niggaz sayin they bout to blown'Less you a bitch, I don't care if you bout do thatnMove back, youngster, the glock gon' speaknChew up your vest and turn your chest hair to taco meat!nThe street, continuous to pit, too quick to smash yanor flash the clip, or give you the picture developnThe click clock, six shots blows through another doornAnd it gets hot, this Hip-Hop Quotable tug of warnWho did ya niggaz beats you bitches, who made it work?nThat shit was [phwrt!], I got harder 2-Way alertsnYou get toe-up and re-torn; by the walkin bombnthat I blow up and re-form, grow up then re-bornnTold you I'm a star that's gon' live forevernServin life sentence and get out and go to the barnSo nigga take BLLAT! I gotta go to the carnBLLAT, oh BLLAT! I gotta throw it in 'park'nThe iron'll wet ya - the Mausberg pumpnwith the buckshots shells'll turn a nigga into Chinese CheckersnI don't even start writin 'til I'm on my third 5thnThat's what you get, when Beatminers meet the WordsmithsnUhh, every time I go out, I cop somethin newnEvery time I throw this right hand I knock somethin loosenWho the fuck think they can see me? Might as wellncall the wife and tell her you're not comin home and to take it easynMy guns don't shoot, they WOOF!nAt them sissy-ass niggaz type to accidentally shoot they footnDesert Eagle too big for you bitch-ass niggaznSoft-ass palms, can't take the kickback niggaznAnd you wonder why they suckin my dicknOr why I keep a suitcase with a hundred grand handcuffed to my wristnOr why the watch could possibly make you lose your sight blinkinnon the wrist, lookin like halogen hazard lights blinkinnRoyce 5-9 in this bitchnAbout to sprinkle gunfire on any snitchnNow who the fuck want it, bitches?nnYeah, uhh, uhh