Jim Jones:   Uh, yeah, Jones   Uh (now) Now   We set them presidents, to get them presidents   Over the ones that are dead, we will put guns to yo' head   Put dots on your loaf like you was wonder the bread   Sheek, Zeke, Hell Rell, and I got some in the Feds   I contradict what ever the government says   For them boys on my back wanna put bugs by my bed   They still thinkin' that we coppin' sellin raw   Tryin' to put us through those Rico's and Rockefeller laws   I'm in LA the top down the pedals floored   Wit a hot stiletto whore, suck my cock tell the law   And for you faggots I see past all your cheap stares, yeah   Nowadays I see my past from a beach chair, yeah   And the fellin' so relaxed and refreshin' when chillin'   A total change from movin crack off the steps of the buildin's   Rollin wit gangs in the back of the ' jects where the killin'   In Park Ave. where young Chris body found   A number is all to add to task body count   Watch it boy they'll show you how that shotty bounce, bounce      Juelz Santana:   I'm the most incredible, to ever do what you cats'll never do, or be able to   I'm ahead of you, cause I spit like I never ate, and if I did then I'm just never full   Stop the hoe jokes, I'm not a homo, better believe I'll cock the 4-4   I ain't Mexican, but I'll stretch your man, yes I am a fuckin' vato loco   I went from the pot with cocoa   To the block with cocoa   To gettin' locked, catchin' a charge dealin' wit the cops and cocoa   Now I'm just hot like cocoa   You can catch me on the block, being watched, in a drop   The same color as chocolate cocoa   I done walked in the street, with so much raw in my sneaks   God dam, got home and had corns on my feet   I see the lord when I sleep, and often he speaks   He says Juelz you better than all of these creeps   So I got all my shit light, got on my shit right   Not a lot of thems this nice   But the games funny so I gotta do shit right   So to the ball drop, and the world blow up, I'm a twirl shit up   Until my peeps come home, Zeke come home, better believe I'm a keep on beastin' on      Cam'ron:   Where should I begin, I'm pompous   A thousand wins accomplished   Known throughout the atlas, honest, spin a compass   You'll be abolished   Men, women, children astonished   The Don is the one, jewelry way beyond it   Chunky blessed on the chest   Funky S when I dress   Thunder storm damn   Monkey wrenching' her fresh   But I cope wit the rain, mad I can't float with my dame, down to the coastal wit caine   Maine, my boat is a plane   I land on the water, here I go boastin' again   I keep toast, give a toast, inhale smoke for the pain   Girls gone wild, nope   They goin' insane   All doped off the fame   Jump rope with my chain   Now thats off the chain, Ma take off your chain   the 40 will off your brain, kids will be lost and claimed   Cause of Walton James, now in the orphan game   Whether adoption or foster its all the same   Jim's the rider of riders   JR's the writer of writers   Juelz you know him well, hell he the fire of fire   I'm the supplier, baffled thats the hustler   Trife got a knife for that apple inside your jugular   The Big Apple, I tackle all the customers   Put it on the apple at the castle, come and fuck with us   And further more, got the birds of raw, I deserve a tour   Hey, hey holla' back, swallow that   Thats murda' whore   In a Persian turban, swervin', that Suburban mergein', curvin', herb in the air   Yeah, yeah I'm hurtin y'all   See I crash and cop it, mash and mop it, blast a rocket   Natural born hustler, yeah crack I stocked it   Now my drugs are legal, so just pass the profit   Three months alone Sizzurp will smash the ' Notic   We them B boys in one year a quarter billion   Here come the clothin' line, I got your order children   And thats more than illin'   Long as the Lord is willin'   I'm a pour in millions, so applaud a villain   Killa   Dipset bitch   Dipset