f/ Lil Dap, Miz Marvel            Intro: Jeru The Damaja      Yes yes         Check it out right here now, knowhatimean?   Henryville, the muthafuckin bitchez wit dikz      That's in the midst,    of the real brothers whose the true wonders         Knowhatimsayin? Talkin all that shit about this and this and that         But fakin shit, I'mma drop it like this         {Jeru The Damaja   Bad bitches and techs, and sound affects            Talk but skate like Tara Lipinski, when shit get hec-tic   Out in Brooklyn, too late you's a vick      And if spend major dough on a hoe, you a bitch ass trick      Pimps and players, no I'm not a hater         'cause I smashed it off, she bust me down I ain't pay her      Shoutin youse a regulator,    soft like C3PO, but pop shit like Darth Vader      For Princess Leia, with flesh hard like Shaggy      Your booty, when shit get raw you Doo like Scooby   I'm snatching chains, mics and those platinum groupies            Dutches, chins, and hips get twist   And let it be known, I eat ya'll pussies like a porno movie      Drop that bitch with a dick, and get a nigga like this               Chorus: Jeru The Damaja (Miz Marvel)         You never see him the in the ghetto (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      Think they pimps, but they tricks (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      Turn to states evidence (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      When beef come they skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      *bitch!*      You never see him the in the ghetto (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      Think they pimps, but they tricks (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      When beef come they skip (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      Turn to states evidence (Bitchez Wit Dikz)      *bitch!*            {Lil Dap      You niggas are like East New York waste, spit in your face      Open your mouth, swallow the taste, listen to the pace      It's like showin the love, the same thing as pullin the club      Spit it out, ya hoes know what this shit is about      Bitchez wit dicks, and make a nigga mad as shit      Cough the cough, when singing thru the streets of New York      Holdin it down, but wavin my banner all around         'cause these whole motherfuckers, wanna round are town   Thinkin they down, but dont know BK grounds      *bitch!*            Chorus            {Miz Marvel      The next contestant left to be a secret lethal weapon      Against half steppin, niggas is fake,       I scope them first impression      Take the mics possession, with the greatest discretion      And quick wit, fully equipped, mental lie detection      Ya eyes cross like an intersection      You forget to count your blessings, all in the mix      Sold your soul for it's weight in gold bricks      Bitchez wit dikz, with chips like chicks      Only talk with snares and tits      In the time of revolution, be the first to submit      Try to be God, but there mental seem unfit      Speakin mathematics, but quick to kiss a crucifix      Won't admit that their style is rip and counterfeited      Contradict, sell their men to bang their fit, a moving target   Thrown into the bottomless pit, bitchez wit dikz               Chorus            (bitch! scratched over and over)