Lyrics:

Verse One: Erick Sermon Whoo! Ah ah, ayahh, ahh ahh ahh And you don't stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bond Now introducing the sound from the ghetto E Double and Too $hort, what the fuck you thought? I come with the ruckus, It's My Thing when I swing I'm Born to Mack, always strapped, with the black gat Who out there I swear boy wanna get touched Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so DUCK I talk the talk, walk the walk, now nigga Five hundred S drivin with hand on trigger Crazy Lestat, check my track record Everything I touch is gold since eighteen years old So what that mean? I roll the blunt and puff the indo smoke in it, I trip in a minute Crazy hoes be jockin me cuz I be rockin B Sewin up like Monopoly, nobody's stoppin me Dig it, Funkdafied like Brat, how's that? I stick and move on tracks while I smoke a twenty sack Who said the E can't rock? That's bullshit Suck my dick and get a big fat lick of my balls You wanna brawl? Punk I thought not You might get beat down and stomped like Sasquatch Your girl, like Keith Sweat, I wanna fuck her Psych, I already stuck her I got rhymes to make your whole head swell up Here's an icepack homeboy shut the hell up I rock the mic with Too $hort, y'all niggaz know what's happenin Everything he touch goes platinum Eyeeaaaah! Verse Two: Too $hort I made a half a million in a week And every nigga on the street got a tape playin me You can't believe it? Erick Sermon, rollin with $hort Rolled from California all the way to New York In big Benzes, G hooked it up Now we trying to squash all that EastWest stuff We spent years in the studio makin funky tracks Signed a bunch of niggaz with some tigh