Yo, yo, yo, yo, you know who this is, boy, for real The art of getting robbed This is how we do Brooklyn-style, boy, you know what I'm saying? R.I.P., B.I.G, nigga, R.I.P P.A.C R.I.P.-Enough of that shit, it's time to O.D Don't take this shit serious, we just bugging the fuck out One time But y'all can take it how y'all want it, word The bottom line is: I'm a crook with a deal If my record don't sell, I'ma rob and steal You better recognize, nigga, I'm straight from the street These industry niggas is starting to look like something to eat I'll snatch Kim and tell Puff, ''You want to see her again? Dance your ass down to the nearest ATM'' I have dreams of fucking an R&B bitch But I wake up early and bounce with all her shit When I apply pressure, son, it ain't even funny I'm about to stick Bobby for some of that Whitney money Brian McKnight? I can get that nigga anytime Have Keith sweating staring down the barrel on my nine Since these Harlem World niggas seem to all be fam I put the gun to Cardan, tell him, 'Tell your man' Mason Betha, haha Come up off that watch now, I mean, right now The only excuse for being broke is being in jail An entertainer can't make bail, he broke as hell I'd rob O.D.B., but that'd be a waste of time (Yeah) Probably have to clap him, run and toss the nine I'd follow Fox in the drop for four blocks Plotting to jux her for that rock Kurupt copped What Jigga just sold-like four mil? He got something to live for (Uh-huh) Don't want a nigga putting four through that Bentley Coupe door I'll manhandle Case like 'Dope, get on the ground You ain't with Mary no more, where you getting chips from now?' I been scheming on Tone and Poke since they found me Steve know not to wear that platinum shit around me I'm a klepto, nah, for real, son, I'm sick I'm 'bout to stick Slick Rick for all that old school shit Right now, I'm bent, and when I get like this, I don't think About to make Stevie J take off that tight-ass mink I'll rob Pun without a gun, snatch his piece and run (Uh-huh) This nigga weigh four hundred pounds-how he gon' catch me, son? Huh?

Joe don t wanna be a player no more