COME ON, COME ON. DON'T get swung on, swung on. It's JUSTE mading my homies put the baggies back. (Whoo!) Still stackin' plaques (yep), still action-packed (yep), and
I keep it flippin' like acrobats. That's why I pack a mack, that'll crack a back, cause on my waist, there's more
heat than the shaq-attack! But I ain't speakin' about ballin', jus' thinkin' about brawlin' 'til y'all start ballin'. We
all in together now, birds of a feather now, jus' bought a plane so we changin' the weather now. So put your brakes on,
cats put your capes on, and knock off your block, get dropped, and have your face blown. Cause I'll prove it, scratch off
the music, like hey little stupid, don't make me looose it!