Verse 1
All you rappers gonna wish I never got in the game, cuz when
I get my first hit, everything fina change, the whips and
slang, medallions on yo platinum chains, from the art of
spitting to darn near everything in between, move around
now, get up and dance now, get out ya chair, get on the
floor, go on and bounce now, I move crowds like security
guards, plus I’m hard as it gets, even when I’m
reppin my God, so everybody in the building wave ya hands
and get down, from the inner city’s and suburbs to
them country cow towns, I’m stacking chips like Doritos
and casino tables, and pushing whips like em valet’s
at them record label’s, move around now, get up and
dance now, get out ya chair, get on the floor now, go on
and bounce now, Life is good when ya blessed wit all the
finer things, got piece of mind, from the grind, plus em
diamond rings!
Hook
Shake ya body like ya got the holy ghost now, Shake ya body
like your shivering cuz It’s cold out, shake ya body
got the wiggle in your soul now, Shake ya body what, Shake
ya body what.
Verse 2
Who could it be, on the M I C yall aint gotta tell me, everybody
in the club is fond of me, cuz how I rock em beats, I aint
R&B, and all of you haters just a bunch of punk wanna
be’s, I don’t, pack a piece, cuz I’m
bout the peace, even though you suckahs wanna try to pull
and squeeze, well goin release, I aint scared, I’m
on my knees, I’m a really keep it real with the Jesus
piece, I got yall tripping pimping, by the way that I be
ripping spitting, all of these lyrical styles that got
the crowed jumping, over a beat that’s hitting, hitting,
chicken, grits, and catfish, love it wit a side of greens
and beans in my dish, You know it’s all good when
I slid through the hood, cuz I represent my people the
way that a playa should, get love from all the hommies
in the red and the blue, mexicanos y cubanos and em white
boys too, I stay true to the game, I aint new to the game,
still keeping it gospel and prey, when I, rip the mic,
cuz I’m dynamite, like JJ, Then all the people tell
me show ya right, It’s on tonight, I know you love
the way I write, and I’m a make all of the rappers
wanna die tonight, still holy ghost filled, freed from
sin, I keep it holy plus I make the bread, got that water
that will never ever wanna make you thirst again, and I’m
psycho when I grab the pen, make miracles happen when I’m
up in the vocal both, and everybody always tripping cuz
I spit the truth, to reach the youth, you suckahs better
call a truce, or I’m a have all of you rappersn shaking
in ya boots.
Verse 3
You’ll probably never catch me packing a knife, but
I’m cutting rappers to death with all the words that
I write, the truth and the light, is what I’m representing
tonight, by the end of the night I’ll have the crowed
ready to fight, so throw ya hands up, throw ya hands up,
all my people if ya wit me go on and stand up, making inspirational
music for em killas and thugs, tell em to, put away them
heaters, stop slanging em drugs, got get them, gangstas and
riders, make songs, trying to get inside, tired of, hearing
all em sirens, can I, get a moment of silence, sick of the
violence, murders, and burglars, and curb servers, concerning
em burners ya better believe they concern us, they con earners,
with the gift to gab, ready to stab, used to be conscious
now they conscious has gone bad, they living really hard,
and quick to pull ya card, don’t make me holla, dogg,
I’m bout to get my bodyguards.