aim 4 the head
ruff ryders
let them lames know you ain't playin with 'em
i know how baggin a whole brick feel
hit the garage and switch wheels
with the menage and tip drills
then show me how them lips feel
i'm shinin cause i'm clinin on the strip still
still keep the clip steel
big chain and wrist gliss
i'ma make cake like this quick
my album went gold in a month
'cause niggaz with the lip bit
then i'm gon'switch clips and squeeze like toothpaste
palm over my forearm so i could shoot straight
let them lames know you ain't playin with 'em
my objective is to live lavish
jin stand out like swiss ad libs
should've been spit on volume one
tell your corner it's time
your career can not be saved
while i'm tourin overseas
and i'm still poppin up on smack dvd's
aint got no platinum plaques for records sold
but if eatin rappers was sales
speakin on behalf of the next generation
let them lames know you ain't playin with 'em
your brains over the window
make it look like you got red tints
hope your gt got a bulletproof f-r-o-n-t
pop with them slugs and give a fuck about your bentley
you a punk and i'm a boss boy
it's the u cheeks and i ain't talkin bout that nigga from the lost boys
you had to see that havin it all was just a casualty of war
i got keys like a cord when i'm swingin a sword
i could bring you the law
got them things on the fog
we the best and i ain't got to spit a punchline
'cause i do situps all over the track when it's crunchtime
i'll put this machette through the side of your chin chilla
black hoodie with the matchin fitted
don't come up short lil' man
let them lames know you ain't playin with 'em