[Verse 1: Bun B]
Yeah… When I step in the spot, motherf-ckers say “who that? ”
Big Bun B, but you already knew that
Live from the state where they chop it and [bad word] that
You hatin’ on the trill OG, where they do that? (for real!)
Motherfckers need to get off the [bad word]  man
Fall the f-ck back like a bike with no kickstand
Get out my mix man, just go’ get you stuck
Deeper in the quicksand, with no easy fix, man  [bad word] #33;)
No tricks, man, those is for kids
Kush in my cigar, and hoes in the crib
Drank, and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge
You f-ckin’ with DA so you know what it is
I’m sittin’ on the fours that clack [bad word]  down candy in the golden ‘Lac
We gettin’ to the money like it’s Goldman Sachs
And we do it for the pimps that are holding back… let’s go!

[Verse 2: Nas]
Look who crept in with automatic weapons, reppin’ QB till the death of him
That [bad word] that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and 
Track record goes back to “The Essence”,
Smack adolescents who ask who the best is
I’m nasty like gas from a fat man, attested,
I pass it, you gaspin’ for breath and you die fast
But I’m like a gastric bypass,
Bunch of Nas African actors seemed to get typecast in the same role
Since 16 I ain’t grow a day old yet my brain grow, cocaine white Range Rov’
Tats on my body like an art exhibit, I did real good for a project [bad word] 
Was once a Bacardi sipper, now it’s Chandon,
Fat blunts in the car with strippers
Guns [bad word] hidden, I was real young, little youth, a novice [bad word] 
Blessings, bowed down, respected, chowed down now my food’s digested
Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs, bust louder than the noise I just spit
Let’s get one thing straight that my crown ain’t for testin’… testin’
Chop heads off like King Henry the 8th, guillotine to ya neck, [bad word] #33;
I’m a king in this thing, don’t be dumb
Been in this [bad word] since ’91
Niggas can’t f-ck with the style I use
Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum
Calm now, was a wylin’ dude, studied cowards that made power moves
Watched Wild Planet seen lions devour food, you can say that’s how I move
monster [bad word]  and I don’t really like doing songs with niggas
There go my [bad word] Wayne, let them niggas hate
I love my [bad word] Drake say “we ain’t got time to respond to niggas”

[Verse 3: Shyne]
I’m a villain, I’m a villain, all that happens in the street
Poverty and desperation made me everything I be
I’m a shotta, when I pop up with them poppers burn ya block up
Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin’ over Gotham
Word to Poppa
Blood gang, five! It’s that Blood gang, five, but green is the bottom line
 [bad word] this town, I ain’t gon’ lie, [bad word] they mouth, they ain’t gon’ fight
They actin’ like they ain’t gon’ die until I let them llamas fly
Flatbush to Bed-do-or-die, from Watts to Larry Hoover Chi
Poverty and heroine, it’s no place for a juvenile
Put greed in our heart, it’s the green that we want
Cash Money is [bad word] and Weezy the boss!

[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]
They say I’m underrated, but [bad word] with-able
Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable
Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable!
And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible!
They ask is what I do ever gonna stop, this [bad word] will never end
That’s when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth got em sayin’
“There he goes again! ”
See now they nominated a [bad word] [bad word] and flatten everything
Now let me dominate it, [bad [bad word] 
And they be knowin’ that I be blackin’ on everything
And make [bad word] like a [bad word] constipated with a gun
I gotta make it what they want and wake ‘em when [bad word] and shake ‘em
And bake ‘em and take ‘em to another place
Ain’t no fakin’, ain’t no kind of mistakin’ how I be breakin’ up
Everything and be creating a s-s-s-situation when I’m done  [bad word] #33;)
You see I spit National Treasure,