Whoahhhhhhhhh, whoa
  Ladies and gentlemen, you now rockin with the best
  (Geah) Jersey City, stand up
  Patterson, stand up
  Off top.. Just Blaze!
    [Joe Budden]
  Hold up nigga, slow up nigga
  Don't start a war unless your dough's up, nigga
  Know what nigga? Joe's up nigga
  Y'all shouldn't cry about it, grow up nigga
  Guess what y'all? I know magic
  I could make your pulse dissapear and no hat trick
  Death threats - it ain't phase me
  When I bring the T-Mac through the Rucker y'all, it ain't Tracy
  Sewed up nigga, low cut nigga
  So keep talin bout your wrists froze up nigga
  You might see 30 whips roll up nigga
  We be at the pawn shop givin your Rol' up nigga
  Just wanted to make that known, you seen _New Jersey Drive_
  Round here, leave that Maybach home
  Before we vick that homes, we be on y'all jerks
  You'll find out the hard way if your On*Star works, cause
    [Chorus: repeat 2X]
  I don't, need a reason to bust my guns
  So don't, give me reason to bust my guns
  You might, be the reason I bust my gun
  (Pa-pow, pa-pow - pa-pow, pa-pow)
    [Joe Budden]
  'Til my day's up nigga, stay up nigga
  Play Tony Montana, get your face cut nigga
  That goes out to all of you play thug niggaz
  How you want it, long nose or the trey snub nigga?
  Return and die dog, if I start clappin in your crib
  Nah I ain't tryin to turn the lights off
  Trapped on the chain, got the jewels and cape
  Be like Jared, Subways made him lose his weight, but look
  I'm bout gettin money for all races
  Only oldie but goodie I know is small faces
  Wait, make you sure you heard right; woulda been put the hit out
  But I ain't tryin to get my third strike
  Lace up nigga, say what nigga?
  Your Maybelline raps that you make-up nigga
  Wake up nigga, stakes up nigga
  For all my locked-down and my cased-up niggaz, cause
    [Chorus]
    [Joe Budden]
  Who's that nigga? New cat nigga
  Don't disrespect, don't do that nigga
  Hate to hear the sound of the tool clap nigga
  Dual strap nigga when I do black niggaz
  First hand with a three-eighty kickback
  Brains on your lap dog, babysit that
  Look, it's my turf, get up off the stoop now
  I'm Omar Epps, who got the "Juice" now?
  Street love nigga, G's up nigga
  You lookin for a loan on your re-up nigga
  Haters might wanna put hollows in ya
  When you're young black spendin like a lotto winner y'know
  I'm grown up now, I'm done with Jake
  When I say pounds y'all I'm talkin bout London cake
  I can serve it to you uncut or somethin baked
  Hope you ready for me folks, cause I'm comin your way, cause
    [Chorus] - fades out