Lyrics:

This song is track #21 and is a freestyle. It is also the same verse that he uses on:
This is a Dedication, motherfucker
This is Gangsta Grillz you bastards

Nigga, we bussin' and bussin' to the banga bus
No, we don't run for the Olympics, but the flame's with us
I got that 'tussin, that scummy and the angel dust
So pick your high, I will supply
And correct changes, what's up
We bring the bus in, we bussin', like this thang's for us
You niggas is sleeveless, man, you can't hang with us
I got a bitch who speaks spanglish, she keep her bangels danglin'
And the cocaine is right up in her anus
Old Wayne is right up in the spot where he's supposed to be!
Got Hova at the game and now he coachin' me!
But I been the champion, happy as I ever been
Lampin' in the Hamptons like, what the fuck is a hammock?
The chef up in the kitchen like, what the fuck is a sammich?
I'm like we got to find middle ground, we need balance
Challenge me, that'd be to my advantage
I'm outstandin' like standin' outside up in the twister and walkin'
Not damaged
Standin' outside up in the blizzard and walkin' hot handed
Servin' nickel bags in Iraq, bet I will not panic
Swerve the nickel black if I wreck, bet I will not panic
Cop another one the next day and drive it crazier
The seat to be lazier, shit'll be gravier
Nina Sarafeena my girl, so then I baby her
Waving her at two crazy, Fugazez I'm too brazy
Three brazies deep, we got 380's and P80's
Nice 9's, M10's
M1's and 12 Gauges
Shell casings, money put up for jail cases
Bail making
My momma say, tuck your chain son! They'll take it
I hit her with one of them stale faces like
I'll be damned, mama, they know who I am, mama
I'm still your little boy, but to them, I'm the man, mama
Fuck with your boy, man
Hollygrove the hood, nigga
Throw it in your face
'Till you get that understood