Intro Yea, oh! Check me out, look It goes love, hate, pleasure and pain Four albums in the can and I'm still in the game (what up?) And last album, they don't like me to tell this Debuted at number one and sold more records than Elvis (shut up!) That's what they telling me, switch up your melody Through with misdemeanors, they trying to give rappers felonies So they can lock us up one at a time But true writers stay free in every one of our lines And if you not feeling I'm the cream of the crop I'll knock rappers off your list 'til I get to the top! Still you looking at a man that's financially stable Only nigga getting checks cut from four different labels That Pillsbury dough, women poke my guts Still I walk around the streets like I'm broke as fuck So if you see me in your town and I appear to be moody It's cause I'm thinking 'bout plans that's bigger than Serena booty Me and shaka still starving and looking for meals And heads up! Ludacris is almost out of his deal I'm over ten million sold, every album is crack And for now I'm bout to carry def jam on my back Mad rappers I hear you talking way down at the bottom Though I make big money, still handle small problems The rambling at the mouth, I don't play that shit I'm the best and I ain't really got say that shit!