I'm the most critically acclaimed, rap [bad word] in the game

Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl

Dark skinned, Christian Dior poster girl

Mo' rockin Timbs [bad word] and the Gucci loafers girl

Niggaz say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty
 [bad word] y'all thought? Be dancin around in suits like I'm {Diddy}

Pretty, show niggaz how [bad word] this city

Respect my name, Boogie [bad word]  stay in ya lane

Like The Hurricane, rains on [bad word] like Sugar Shane 

And dare one of y'all rappin chicks to mention Fox name

'What's Beef?' Beef is when [bad word] think it's sweet

See y'all frontin in the streets and let my gat meet ya

1- Why Yoooooooo, Why yo yo yo

Why Yoooooooo, Why yagga ya yo

Why Yoooooooo, Why yo yo yo

Why Yoooooooo, Why yagga ya yo (yagga yo)

[Verse Two]

Check, uhh

It's like I'm in my own [bad word] world, I speak how I feel

Sometimes I feel like I'm just too [bad word] real

I love to stack riches, no disrespect y'all

I respect the rap game, but I don't [bad word] with rap [bad word] 
I'm speakin from my heart

It's not that I'm too good, I'm just hood

Been like this from the [bad word] start

Since I bust my gun in ninety-six

Y'all never see me flick up with them fake [bad word] chicks
 [bad word] smile up in your face, turn around and pop [bad word] 
You a industry [bad word]  I'm a in the streets [bad word] 
I might breeze through Prada, Chloe or Tiffs

But, other than that it's just me and my six

repeat 1

[Verse Three]

I dream filthy

My moms and pops mixed it with the [bad word] and whiskey

Uhh, proper set off

Six sped off, gats let off, I speak calm

Gangsta, and pours off like Screechie Don, bwoy

Who y'all know rock Prada like Fox

Pop bottles in the back of the cellar with Donatella

Cartier wrist wear, Pasha Kay face

Got niggaz stand in line just to get a sneak taste

Act like y'all don't know I keeps gat beneath waist

And like a hundred thou' each crib in each safe

When [bad word] through she have a gun in the place

I'm like Marion Jones, what, who the FLUCK wan' race?

Listen, never trippin, never catch Brown slippin
 [bad word]  y'all only nice around mics like Pippen
 [bad word]  to all my thugs that's Blood'n or Crip'n

I'm still [bad word]  still lowridin and switch-hittin [bad word]