| Hands up in the air |
| Ain’t no steppin' there |
| We gon' pump it |
| Lets all get down |
| Feel it in your trunk |
| Let your system bump |
| Yo we gon' move now |
| Lets all get down |
| Hands up in the air |
| Ain’t no steppin' there |
| We gon' pump it |
| Lets all get down |
| Feel it in your trunk |
| Let your system bump |
| Yo we gon' end it |
| Lets all get down |
| Scramble for cheese, MC’s |
| And actors with no fear factor |
| Ill rap you the rapture |
| Turnin' strawberries into Cleopatras |
| Attach your brain |
| With Words of love and pain |
| Fuck above the rim, I’m above the game |
| Getting hugs from dames |
| When I don’t even know their name |
| Just seen what flick they was in |
| As the world and the DJ spins |
| Hittin' Cranberry Blends |
| Girls in the club with their friends |
| Lookin' for men |
| Dancing with each other |
| And treat by the chance that they love us |
| Brothas talkin' in my ear like they got tracks |
| Sistas in my ear talkin' like they got black |
| Movements for me to move with |
| Bad breath mixed with music |
| These good times so let me use it, yo yo |
| Let the poppas pop and the breakers break |
| The hustlas hustle and the shakers shake |
| The aesthetic is ultramagnetic |
| B-Boys sweat it, Off |
| With their hats feathered, set it, Off |
| Raw like footage, with no edit |
| In the club, at the bar, Broke headed |
| With my guy who got the block glocked and dreaded |
| I rap, I’m expected to be cheddared |
| This chick rockin' a fur like she want to pet it |
| Better food, somebody should of fed it, the move |
| Ghetto, get eclectic, mellow but yet festered |
| Minds molested by music |
| Good times defuse with buds smoking speakers |
| Run nose thugs quote their favorite song |
| Mind too black and too strong |
| To song and dance |
| We advance to where it don’t stop |
| The pure hip hop… |