(*talking*)
Ghetto Status let's go, hey

[Chamillionaire]
If any of them was on top, he's the throne there's a new king
So watch what you doing, I'm having a mood swing
Your lip gon get stiffed, get my drift better move swing
My fist till it hit your lip, and it's blue as a mood ring
That's just for assuming, Chamillion can't throw the up
Or standing over you saying, that famous cool by Chris Tucker
Tough luck, I'm the definition of hustler
Gun to me and my brother, make niggaz adjust the
Combination to the safe, I am the money magnet
You got some money stash it, cause we coming to grab it
You got a tight B, better put it up in a bag kid
Put me in a straight jacket, I straight jack it
Yeah that nigga Chamillionaire, he got the baddest
Hoes from the left side, to the right side of the atlas
Wanna get in the palace, and see how big the pad is
Make another wish, Ms. click your heels like Alice
And if I do let you in, you won't get no cabbage
You gon see the entrance to the bedroom, and see the mattress
And after that Ms., disappear
There's a exit in the front, and a exit in the rear
Pick the closest one near, yeah

[Rasaq]
Hey niggaz taking shots at Rasaq, and hope I respond
You little peons, don't make me yawn
Don't get peed on, or get my N-U-T on
The top of your lips, like a dunk coming from Keyon
You best just be gone, cause when I pop the neons
In the trunk, I'm prime-time like Deon
Get off my ding-dong, little niggaz cling on
My balls and bounce back and fourth, like it's ping pong
I set the V on, twenty inch deon's
And them 21's, your honey come and sing along
Big swangas and vogues, spit game to these hoes
They addicted, like white things in they nose
The God of the gutter, I found my way out
Only to get lost and tossed, back in another
Now I'm back in the hole, like golf ballas and a putter
And I only wanna touch this green, but this white man with a stick
Keeps knocking me, away from that shit
Till I lay in a ditch, and they don't even come get me
They just get another me, and keep swanging a stick, damn