| car 36, 36, we got a situation in progress | 
| 37 between 106th | 
| we got a possible homicide | 
| all cars, all cars, we got a situation down | 
| Aiyo, toxi’off the grey goose, vodka, shots of hypnotic | 
| Ya’ll bitches want beef, son, you got it Fresh off the bliz-knock, Bob Diz-noc | 
| Plex on the K.B., son, you get shiz-not | 
| Right in your hiz-ead, you’ll be diz-ed | 
| Don’t front on this nigga, I’mma from New York Ci-zey! | 
| Ya’ll butter pec', make my nuts weak | 
| Have me walk around, talkin’backward with stutter speak | 
| Like tuh tuh tuh tuh tuh, buh buh buh buh | 
| Butter pec', make my nutter weak | 
| And ya’ll crabs down south, you ain’t got a clue | 
| How it feel to slip in that papi chino power u White Cadillac truck just high beamed us Mami look like she was Angie Martinez | 
| I don’t espanol, I play imposter | 
| I was like «Mamacita, yah yah, que pasa?» | 
| And slip back to my casa | 
| She was like «Nigga! | 
| You sound like rasta!» | 
| I’m the ace in the decks… | 
| I’m the ace in the deck, still casin’a Tec | 
| That filled with the taste of the lead, buck buck | 
| The bass and the treb', the space in the back | 
| Where chumps walk by, and they face get slapped | 
| I’m not known to talk a lot | 
| Sit on five whips, son, so I don’t walk a lot | 
| Got ten chicks, so I don’t hawk a lot | 
| Been around the world, but I love New York a lot | 
| Especially up in Bedstuy, with those crazy Cuffies | 
| Or in Fort Green, with those crazy Cuffies | 
| Ya’ll floss like ya’ll Jay-Z and Puffy’s | 
| You get robbed, bucked down by a crazy Cuffie | 
| Bobby! | 
| Fuckin’the mics is my hobby | 
| Fuckin’the mics is my hobby | 
| Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby |