You know we had to do a remix, right?Clap up your hood like a hammer manBring your gat, better bust it if you get that closeToo scared to clap, better strap your foot upEveryone speak with six pinTry to speak to me, negativeDamn, get that hookIt's free, listen, more fees with Mac MittensNo we didn't, yes we didSwitch beginningsSmith & Wesson precision, bring up our sessions with ribbonsLeave a mess in your crib, call the grave, niggaSuckin' with some A-niggasWinning with the A.K. nigga, no you didn'tYes I did, oh I'm patient, wait a minuteWin this fake, yeahSnatch the cake up out of scriptI'm like the beggar with your bossSet up shop and distribute where you liveIt's freeway in the place with my squadAnd we got what it takes to dust and cakeFlip your boxIt's B.C. in the place with St. PeteAnd I got what it takes to rock the mic rightStill watch what you say to Young FreeCause 50 Shots still will burn the club outIt's freeway in the place with St. PeteAnd we got what it takes to rock the mic rightStill watch what you say to B.C.Cause we got what it takes to rock the mic rightStill watch what you say to Young FreeAnd I got what it takes to bust the G.B.And I got what it takes to rock the mic rightYou better watch what you say around hereCause it's somethin' on my waist that makes the old place nervousIt's Murph Bird in the place with NellyAnd I got what it takes to rock the mic rightYou better watch what you say to my FaceCause I got what it takes to shakes the whole placeBe 18 entertainin' though21 when I'm clubbin' itFake I did, but I *** a bitI'm just a schoolboy, somewhat newboyYou can't get Nelly, you would settle for Hoon BoyTwo toy carrier, two stashesOne truck that seats six assesTwenty-twos to confuse the massesRemove glasses, blow smoke up in my ashesI used to drive my mama's stuffNow the schoolboy putting twenties on a ba-ba-bop truckI make rappers go back to the blockThey be like, maybe I was better off selling rocksI'm a really in a place to be punkAnd I got enough skunk to fill the whole frontI take trips with chumps up in my trunkAnd I take them real far to a safe place to goThis must a down-down, I'm what you do to get down and lay downIt's fine as a pin-down, hear what I say nowYou see how I proceed with cautionMy will cracks fast, so you niggas be bossesBranding losses, I play when I wannaNut check, gut check, cause I say what I wannaAround six and a six with a throwback sixerNumber six, Julius ErdLike Chris and the Erd, make it hard to swerveThrow your hands up, if you didn't bang the rim on the curbI'm getting killed while you was faking a turnI strike a nerve at old MCs wanting a comebackI got respect but it's lost in that factLike, hey, no one here even said your nameOh, you really feeling guilty about something, man?Best sad to see he really just wentJust one more hit, please, pleaseYou the first old man should get a rapper's pensionNo, we had sister call us Mike InventionI'm spitting, matter of fact, stay the *** out the kitchenNelly kicking with too many dimensionsMidwest, and we came aboutMidwest, and we came aboutMidchester, youth on my sideOpinions in my tribeGroup outside, who the *** gonna ride it?It's Nelly in the place with Murph LeeAnd I got what it takes to rock the mic right hereYou better watch what you say around herCause there's something on my waist that makes the old place betterIt's Freeway in the place with State BAnd we got what it takes to rock the mic right hereYou better watch what you say to DCCause we got what it takes to dust the DEAll of y'all need to one yourselfGo get the burning nigga backWe'll be right back.