You know we had to do a remix, right?
Clap up your hood like a hammer man
Bring your gat, better bust it if you get that close
Too scared to clap, better strap your foot up
Everyone speak with six pin
Try to speak to me, negative
Damn, get that hook
It's free, listen, more fees with Mac Mittens
No we didn't, yes we did
Switch beginnings
Smith & Wesson precision, bring up our sessions with ribbons
Leave a mess in your crib, call the grave, nigga
Suckin' with some A-niggas
Winning with the A.K. nigga, no you didn't
Yes I did, oh I'm patient, wait a minute
Win this fake, yeah
Snatch the cake up out of script
I'm like the beggar with your boss
Set up shop and distribute where you live
It's freeway in the place with my squad
And we got what it takes to dust and cake
Flip your box
It's B.C. in the place with St. Pete
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right
Still watch what you say to Young Free
Cause 50 Shots still will burn the club out
It's freeway in the place with St. Pete
And we got what it takes to rock the mic right
Still watch what you say to B.C.
Cause we got what it takes to rock the mic right

Still watch what you say to Young Free
And I got what it takes to bust the G.B.
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right
You better watch what you say around here
Cause it's somethin' on my waist that makes the old place nervous
It's Murph Bird in the place with Nelly
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right
You better watch what you say to my Face
Cause I got what it takes to shakes the whole place
Be 18 entertainin' though
21 when I'm clubbin' it
Fake I did, but I fuck a bit
I'm just a schoolboy, somewhat newboy
You can't get Nelly, you would settle for Hoon Boy
Two toy carrier, two stashes
One truck that seats six asses
Twenty-twos to confuse the masses
Remove glasses, blow smoke up in my ashes
I used to drive my mama's stuff
Now the schoolboy putting twenties on a ba-ba-bop truck
I make rappers go back to the block
They be like, maybe I was better off selling rocks
I'm a really in a place to be punk
And I got enough skunk to fill the whole front
I take trips with chumps up in my trunk
And I take them real far to a safe place to go
This must a down-down, I'm what you do to get down and lay down
It's fine as a pin-down, hear what I say now
You see how I proceed with caution
My will cracks fast, so you niggas be bosses
Branding losses, I play when I wanna
Nut check, gut check, cause I say what I wanna
Around six and a six with a throwback sixer
Number six, Julius Erd
Like Chris and the Erd, make it hard to swerve
Throw your hands up, if you didn't bang the rim on the curb
I'm getting killed while you was faking a turn
I strike a nerve at old MCs wanting a comeback
I got respect but it's lost in that fact
Like, hey, no one here even said your name
Oh, you really feeling guilty about something, man?
Best sad to see he really just went
Just one more hit, please, please
You the first old man should get a rapper's pension
No, we had sister call us Mike Invention
I'm spitting, matter of fact, stay the fuck out the kitchen
Nelly kicking with too many dimensions
Midwest, and we came about
Midwest, and we came about

Midchester, youth on my side
Opinions in my tribe
Group outside, who the fuck gonna ride it?
It's Nelly in the place with Murph Lee
And I got what it takes to rock the mic right here
You better watch what you say around her
Cause there's something on my waist that makes the old place better
It's Freeway in the place with State B
And we got what it takes to rock the mic right here
You better watch what you say to DC
Cause we got what it takes to dust the DE
All of y'all need to one yourself
Go get the burning nigga back
We'll be right back.