text: Listen to the don
  Theres nothing you can do
  To make me run away from this game here, this game here
  And there is no emcee
  To put the competition to Kim no, Kim no
  Yes Im telling you from the start
  I will break your little heart 
  Theres nothing you can do
  So just respect the don
  There is no word you can say
  That it would offend the Kim no, better listen
  Im gonna, murder them, murder them
  Any competition Im gon murder them
  Im gonna, blow off they whip
  Blow off they whip
  All you frontin emcees, Im gonna, blow off your whip
  When Im gone, you will appreciate my shit
  When Im gone, youll wanna spit my lyrics
  But Im gwan, Im not gon put up with this
  I swear to God, you jealous niggas make me sick
  See, I aint got all day
  Some-fuckin-body gon pay
  Got things to do and places to be
  Im bout to take back whats owed to me
  Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant
  The livest one, we right here, we right here, we right here
  All yall, let it go, no disrespectin Hov
  Four years since Doubt drop, eleven million records sold
  Five nigga, volume two
  Dogs who be grinnin, then they
  Try to get out of line, four cases pendin
  Three niggas got it coming, say May-June
  Six albums dropped cock-suckers stay tuned
  Its Jay everyday, no days off
  No jewels drippin and I took the shades off
  You wanna ruck with me? Slug you one comfortably
  Put you back where your stomach should be 
  Im dangerous when tempted, best left alone
  Best believe the gun got Tourette Syndrome
  Beretta sounds like Berreepp when its thrown
  Youre heading for a cold place, youngin, dress warm
  Too much hustle, too easy to touch you
  Little fucks you, go play
  PS Jay, PS B-R-double-O-K
  L-Y-N, stay out my way
  Me and P.S. L-I-L to the K
  I to the M, B.I. to the end
  Pardon my French, but uh
  Sometimes I get kinda, peeved at these
  Weak emcees, with these
  Supreme balla like, lyrics I call em like I see them G
  You niggas sound like me
  Pardon my French, but uh
  Sometimes I get kinda, peeved at these
  Weak emcees
  Yall niggas got some audacity
  You sold a million, now you half of me
  Get off my dick, kick it bitch
  Love for B.I.? Then bust one in the sky
  Haters watch your back
  We might bust one in ya eye
  Its going down tonight
  So dont get outta line
  Enough menve tri-ed
  But nuff men-a di-ed
  Biggie crowned me, Miss Queen Bitch forever
  Even left me this thrown and an iced out tiara
  What?! What the fuck, who the fuck, wanna fuck
  With this Brooklynite bandit
  Blow you off the planet
  This girl, never troubled no-one
  But if you trouble this girl
  It gwan bring-a bum bum 
  What a bum bum
  Pardon my French, but uh
  Sometimes I get kinda, peeved at these
  Weak emcees, with these
  Supreme balla like, lyrics I call em like I see them G
  You niggas sound like me
  Pardon my French, but uh
  Sometimes I get kinda, peeved at these
  Weak emcees
  Yall niggas got some audacity
  You sold a million, now you half of me
  Get off my dick, kick it bitch
  Bum bum BI bum bum
  What a bum bum
  What a bum bum