| As we proceed | 
| To give you what you need | 
| B.I.G., muthafuckas | 
| Lil' Cease, muthafuckas | 
| Yo, handsome Hansun | 
| Got dough like the Hansons | 
| Niggas come fast, went out like Helly Hanson | 
| Mr. Bristal, you will never catch me dancin' | 
| Often prancing, only in a mansion | 
| In the party, I’m high and drunk, I see you glancin' | 
| Never blow my cool, even if it’s jammin' | 
| If shit hit the fan, then I got the cannon | 
| Cock, lick-shots, leave 'em where they standin' | 
| You can call the cops, I never get ran in | 
| Call Blake C., y’all get the understanding | 
| Who my man is, who the fam' is | 
| All that bullshit you talk? | 
| Can it, we own the planet | 
| It’s a definite, niggas over money, reppin' it | 
| Armageddon it, destroy everything when we settin' it | 
| You delicate, far away in the country where you better get | 
| Assets in, nigga; | 
| y’all need to get wit' some veterans | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around with me! | 
| No, boy! | 
| I’ll kill you! | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around with me! | 
| No, boy! | 
| I’ll kill you! | 
| Yo, yo, yo | 
| Niggas wanna start shit? | 
| Push the button! | 
| See the dough flip from the carpet | 
| Me and Bris' about to lock down the market | 
| Gats be sparkin', they lie too | 
| Not Crips and Bloods, that’s Piru | 
| D-Roc I’ma die for you | 
| 'Til this day, I’ma ride for you | 
| And God forbid, gotta die too | 
| When you pull that gat, I’ll be right beside you | 
| To guide you, on who to hit and not to | 
| If a nigga guilty, got to die too, that’s the real-la | 
| You’re talkin' to the roach killer, for more scrilla | 
| About to upset New York like Reggie Miller | 
| Once they say you turn thug, you turn killer | 
| Man, it’s hard to turn back when a nigga feel ya | 
| That’s why they tell ya you’re nobody 'til somebody kill ya | 
| That’s why until ya play it back, don’t get too familiar | 
| 'Cause if you get too close, my niggas might fuckin' kill ya, nigga | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around with me! | 
| No, boy! | 
| I’ll kill you! | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around with me! | 
| No, boy! | 
| I’ll kill you! | 
| Another one | 
| The Queen Bee, extraordinaire | 
| Lil' Cease, comin' at’cha | 
| For the year 2000 and the new millennium, Uh | 
| Fuck all you hoes, I blows like flutes | 
| Bitches don’t shake my hand, they salute the lieutenant | 
| Rich men kiss the back of the hand of the royal highness | 
| Pocahontas, Mafia’s behind us, ballin' like Utah | 
| Didn’t think a ghetto bitch could come this far | 
| From pushin' Buicks to candy apple red Jaguars | 
| Bitch think I’m rich, I could rock a FUBU suit | 
| A furry Kangol with some cowboy boots | 
| And still be the shit of the night | 
| When I come through | 
| You be on the side holdin' ya cups like the bums do | 
| Waitin' for the Queen to put some change in it | 
| I pull out a 'G' and drop it with a hundred grand left in my pocket | 
| I promoted this shit, so I got’s to make a profit | 
| And all the ends are sins to my men’s, down at Spofford | 
| Me and Lil' Cease, it’s part two, me partners | 
| Layin' niggas down like carpenters | 
| So pardon us, like Nike’s, we just do it | 
| We ain’t amateurs to this shit, we used to it | 
| And all the bodies I killed, keep 'em on file | 
| So when they anniversaries come, we pop Cristal | 
| Ask Bristal, the Golden Child, TA-DOW! | 
| Take it how I gives it, you talk it, you live it | 
| And don’t forget it, bitches | 
| Stop tryin' to sound like her too, bitches, uh | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around with me! | 
| No, boy! | 
| I’ll kill you! | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around… | 
| You don’t wanna play around with me! | 
| No, boy! | 
| I’ll kill you! | 
| Ya’ll motherfuckers do not wanna play with us | 
| Ya’ll don’t wanna play with us | 
| We will fuckin' kill you | 
| Set the fucka’s right | 
| I’ll fuckin' kill you | 
| I don’t give a fuck who it is | 
| You don’t wanna play around |