Lyrics:

Contains a sample of “Give It To Me Baby” as performed by Rick James
Contains vocal samples of “Car Horn”, a non-album single, performed by Common scratched through the chorus.
Keep on (Chka-chka-chka, uh, uh)
Keep on (Chka-chka, uh, uh)
Keep on (Chka-chka, uh, uh)
Keep on (Chka-chka-chka, uh, uh)
Keep on (Chka-chka, uh, uh)
Keep on (Chka-chka, uh, uh)
Keep on (Chka, uh, uh)
Keep

Motherfucker, move back, I pursue rap at the pace of a New Jack
As miscellaneous numbers and shoes stack
Bruise rap, I deliver for the hungry and underprivileged
Something different from these hollerin', gruntin' niggas
This is business strictly, step to my business is risky
'Specially when you as bitch as Missy
Back-to-back LPs that sound the same
I surround the game with a four-pounded brainstorm
To make niggas dance in the rain
Scared to take a chance in the game
Used to breakdance, it's a shame
What money do to a nigga brain (What?)
If he lose his soul, what did a nigga gain?

Doin' it-it, do-doin' it-it
Yeah, I am doin' it
Doin' it, I am doin' it
C-O-double-M-O to the N (What?)
Doin' it-it (Yeah), do-doin' it-it
I am doin' it
C-O-double-M-O to the N, ya heard?

My train of thought is that of a hustler or a nigga with his shirt off
Tryin' to get his work off to customers
I rap with a chip on my shoulder
Squeezing Coronas, see shirts say, 'We gotta get over'
That jiggy shit is over, the war is on
I only want to be a soldier, I'm holdin' on to a culture
Focused like Gordon Parks when it's sorta dark
For niggas flooded with ice, my thought's the ark
Performin' warmin' arts with some shit for the heart
Don't fuck with radio, ignorin' the charts
I could give a fuck what you made in a year, nigga, you wack
A soft nigga on a hard track, in this new rap
Generation, I X cats like a Muslim
He fell off 'cause I pushed him
Let his Bentley and his weak crew be his cushion
I catch him on the streets in front of bodyguards and rush him

Doin' it-it, do-doin' it-it (Yeah)
I am doin' it (Yeah)
Doin'-in' it, I am doin' it
The C-O-double-M-O to the N (What?)
Doin' it-it, do-doin' it-it
I am doin' it
I'm the C-O-double-M-O to the N, ya heard?

You wasn't sayin' you was a thug before Pac came
Ten years ago, you had a high top tryin' to be like Kane
Then Snoop released and it became a G thang
Claim sets, your city ain't got gangs
Niggas ain't hate you, they ain't payin' you no attention
In a circle of faggots, your name is mentioned
With six degrees (You what?), I separate MCs
From a businessman that's good (Uh)
From a nigga that was raised or just lived in the hood
From what a nigga says to what's understood
Keep my shit tight like them boys in The Wood (Yeah)
Dick is always hard like the boys in the hood
Peace to Dug Inf, No I, Sean Lett, the whole Chi
At the crib, some cats give me the cold eye
I'ma bitch-slap the next one
Let him know the world is my section
To take it, you gotta use aggression

Doin' it-it, do-doin' it-it
I am doin' it
Doin'-in' it, I am doin' it
C-O-double-M-O to the N (What?)
Doin' it-it, do-doin' it-it
I am doin' it
I'm the C-O-double-M-O to the N (N), ya heard? (Yo)

Yo
Yo
I'm the C-O-double-M-O (Yo)
I'm the C-O-double-M-O
Doin' it-it, I am doin' it
The C-O-double-M-O to the N