| Everything’s a go! | 
| And I just washed the wheel, and I Armor All the wheels | 
| And it’s real, everything’s a go! | 
| New jeans, new cheese’s, new gat, gimme a reason | 
| Everything’s a go! | 
| Squad in the club wit me | 
| Tryna find a chick to fall in love wit me | 
| Everything’s a go! | 
| Mami hit me on the jack | 
| Told me meet her at the spot, and I’m bout to call her back, its a go! | 
| Bleek come scoop you, try to seduce you | 
| Half Black and Chinese, she gave me the fu-fu | 
| A little bit of that, wan-tan soup | 
| From the hood, got more chips then wan-tan oooooooh! | 
| But matter fact, got more chesse than nacho | 
| Not from rap, when I used to fuck wit Pancho | 
| I’m in the class, all by myself | 
| Now you haters wanna crowd my space | 
| Hundred grand all in your face, motherfucker better fix ya face | 
| For they butterfly-stich ya face | 
| If ya bitch outta line, put the bitch in place | 
| If the record sound just, get the blaze, nigga | 
| Put in back, on the block for motherfuckers | 
| The ROC get hot, let 'em scream «It's the ROC, in ya area!» | 
| You better warn ya folks | 
| They hate to see a real clique, but now | 
| w/ (Jay-Z ad-libs) | 
| Highest paid act, highest paid to rap | 
| I advance myself, and pay myself back | 
| Ha, man you gotta love that | 
| When them pockets on «E» man you gotta hug that | 
| Corner like you wanna proposal and lock that | 
| Kill a nigga for the scrilla man I’m not above that | 
| Hooo! | 
| hold on Young, let me get it back | 
| You got beef in these streets, Lord, let me get a gat | 
| Booooy! | 
| you now tuned into the greatest | 
| Can’t beat us, join us, can’t fade us, hate us | 
| Nigga it’s nothin, my crew and half dozens | 
| That’s cause we scramble, like we Vick’s half cousins | 
| Booooy! | 
| and get ya mind right nigga | 
| We gon' put you on the news, you want lime light nigga | 
| Channel 2 or Channel 4, you know what 9 like nigga | 
| Groupie men, we put on UPN | 
| One — thug in the club, two — models to go | 
| Three — bottles of Arma', four jars of dro | 
| Five shots to draw, my six hits took off | 
| Seven you make Heaven, or eight — everything’s a go! | 
| Mami got that ice in ya drink | 
| Long legs short skirt, what you mean — everything’s a go! | 
| My thugs outdie of the club wit Timbs | 
| Nine on ya waist, let’s roll we gettin in (Everything's a go!) | 
| Nigga I’m back for, I’m willin to clap boy | 
| You holdin me back for — go! | 
| I — spring into ac-tion, Brooklyn I’m back for | 
| I’m bringin it back boys cause. |