Now, everybody, get your hands up Now, everybody, get your hands up Lo-so, mo' betta (mo' betta), mo' cheddar (mo' cheddar) I do the rolls; I am not a mo wetta Challenge me with the bling - these niggas know betta The wings are as big as the logo on those sweaters Hos betta have a fall back attack I come through like a funeral - all black on black Couple six deuces, all back to back Few flyin' Spurs, all back to back Need a '04/'05 Dunkin 'n them When it come to makin' O's, we like dunkin' with them Nah, I ain't talking donuts I'm talking white ones like the Nike low cuts You couldn't see me if you stood on your tippy toes But you could smell this Cali kush with the zippy closed Damn skippy, those seats is peanut butter You never seen us stutter, like street fitted, and...
[Chorus:] Yep, I'm back stuntin', yep, I'm back frontin' Yep, I'm somebody who made something outta nothing Yep, I know you see something that you wantin' It's just something about me you can't go with out me, y'all Said, you can't go without me y'all Said, you can't go without me y'all
Now, everybody, get your hands up Now, everybody, get your hands up Mo' stuntin' (mo' stuntin'), mo' frontin' (mo' frontin') How you gettin' it, homey? Show something You can ask about him; he go hard With that A.M.E.X. negro card Last time I was seen in a strip club Rain, I hurricane Katrina the strip club May I say I made a way To stay fly till the day I fade away Hey, I pray I stay out of a hater's way Lemme play like A.I., and just get to the point Lemme hear 'em say "ah" when he spit to the joint You gon' hear a spray "raa" when I get to the joint And a blind man could see that them niggas with Fab is gon' Come like them dudes came for Tony at the Babylon Rapid fire, do you know a rapid flyer? The L-O-S-O; I guess no
Now, everybody, get your hands up Now, everybody, get your hands up Mo' winnin' (mo' winnin') mo' dinin' (mo' dinin') Slow windin' gangstas throw signs and I can't help that the chain is so shinin' That the shit on my wrist is just co-signin' They don't search us; they know we got the flamers Still let us slide through the door, like Cramer I believe in God, but my true religion Is stuffin' big faces down in these true religions We everywhere, you ain't never there New coupe shoe shine, like patent leather Airs Pushin' something we ain't got our names on Two '07's, neither one of us is James Bond We in the V.I.P.'s with the big names Fendi Aviator shades with the big frames The streets is watchin', hood is lookin' Brooklyn's back, and look at how good I'm lookin'
Now, everybody, get your hands up Now, everybody, get your hands up