Niggas can´t tell me nothin´ dun, the 5 is kitted for Dead Presidents any cat alive can get it I walk around covered in ice like I survived a blizzard got enough chips to bribe you wit´ it
pay off security at clubs, get my guns and knives admitted I´m the type that gets tried and aquitted if my vibes ain´t wit´ it I pull the Four-Five and spit it then niggas run to the precinct and describe who did it come home and find the necks on their wives are slitted I got niggas on my side comitted to leave you and the driver splitted with your brain spilled inside your fitted Fabolous, the only way to I.D. him is in a Five BM puffin´ sticky green ´till my eyes be slim operate with more chips than IBM fuck with me and make the news at Five PM.
[Chorus] If ya´ll see me gettin´ locked it gotta be drugs if ya´ll see chrome on the truck it gotta be dubs if I´m givin´ somethin´ to haters it gotta be slugs if it´s one thing it´s gotta be it´s gotta be thug no info, I´m I´m leakin´ it gotta be blood If my earlobes are hangin´, it gotta be studs if the bitch on her knees, it gotta be love if it´s one thing it´s gotta be, it´s gotta be thug.
[Fabolous] Niggas don´t wanna play around, they see how calm I do things swarm in a blue range, armed with two flames Flex play my joints, drop bombs like Hussien
catch a cataracts, glance at the charm and new chain I got coke in every part of Brooknam that you name niggas want it, when you wave firearms their views change end up havin´ to move they Moms to Ukraine get ADT alarms and new names come in the club, under each arm is two dames buyin´ bottles of Dom with my loose change niggas hate me now ´cause I catch the eyes of dimes flooded the hood with Tre´s the size of dimes ride through the hood with chrome pokin´ off the wheels I´m in the game tryin´ to get broken off with Mils shove the gun in your mouth, have you chokin´ off the steel
niggas love the band, but the chicks open off the grill.
[Chorus]
[Fabolous] I´m ready to address the haters and underestimaters hop in the truck, ride up on ya´ll like escalators hit ya chest up, leave you hooked to respirators bed ridden talkin´ to investigators now these ladies will do anything just to date us ´cause we skate around on ice like escapaders dressed in Gators, in peace I´m restin´ haters when police come for me, fly West to Vegas ridin´ or dyin´, niggas know I´m ridin´ with iron smoke compartment in the dash that I´m hidin´ the lye in
my pockets is fat, ya´ll accounts is on slim fast I´m Twenty, with Twenty´s on a M-Class just gimmie head it won´t sweat your hairdo out we ain´t tryin´ to hear you out we tryin´ to air you out make ya´ll run to the stores and clear Clue out ´bout to put cameras in the truck, take the rearviews out What nigga....