Are you a gun busting nigga?   (Buh-buh-buh-buh)   Are you a bitch baggin' nigga?   (Whu-whu-whu-whu)   You got ice and ya chain and ya chong wit your rolly on   Not just any rolly but you bought the most expensive one   Hey take ya car keys to ya class E   Big body be for your CD on ya DVD   For ya T.V in ya head beats   In ya back seat   Y'all think I'm mean      Runnin' round talking 'bout the shit that you talking 'bout   How you the drug game sewed up and locked down   John Gotti got life and I'm sure he never told nobody   Boy lets put on an album so the fuckin' feds could buy it      You should be shouting out them bodies you buried   Nine millimeters in tex and Dem AK47's   Illegal weapon you talking 'bout you suck in the club   You got so many guns   Tell me why you rapping stead of getting robbed   I got two more verses for you   This ain't just to an individual person   These questions here for all of ya      I can write a song with out ice, bitches, and cars   Can you mutha fuckas do dat   (Do dat)   I can blaze a track with out bustin' a gat at a cat   Can you mutha fuckas do dat   (Do dat)      Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit   When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis   And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is      Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit   When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis   And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is      Now that you know what the song about   Y'all probably cussin' me out   You gonna listen to it anyhow   Lets talk about somebody Eskimo   Rentin' they jewelry from Jacob   And don't let me know   You got a platinum piece   But your chain is plain right gone   After the video it gotta go back to the store   That's crazy      Talkin' 'bout some shit you don't own   Oughta be ashamed of yourself   Yo don't they call that frontin' holmes?   You ain't jigga, nigga   Nor can you spin like puff   And got a cash money deal   So what's your big Willy talk for?   I get so excited man   Your track got me leapin'   Then you start rhyming and yawn   I get sleepy      Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit   When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis   And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is      I can write a song with out ice, bitches, and cars   Can you mutha fuckas do dat   (Do dat)   I can blaze a track with out bustin' a gat at a cat   Can you mutha fuckas do dat   (Do dat)      It's a sad situation   Record name buggin' out   'Cuz they star artist done ran out of shit to talk about   Whoa   Yeah that's crazy   And you think about it baby   Only thing that changed in yo rhyme   Was ya day 2000      Oh that shit is hot   Put that on the album   You heard it with my man   Kick that shit   Loud and proud   Nigga swear he be throwin' down   Arthur lose his voice every time he opens his mouth   I oughta hold up a signs and boycott they ass right   No more muthafuckin' sound a likes   Sounded like      (Mobb deep!)   Sounded like   (Jay-Z!)   Sounded like   (B.I.B.!)   And we don't need no more please      Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit   When the radios in the club get to pumpin' dis   And they start to finding out what what rappin' really is      Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo shit   (Yo shit)   Yo shit, yo shit   (Yo shit, yo shit)