text: Big Poppa, throwing niggas off of cliffs, smoking spliffs
  Disappear with my bitch in a Mitsubishi Eclipse
  Read my lips, I kill you
  Bloodll spill too, did I say thank you
  I grant you three wishes cause I be the genie
  Niggas is assed out like fat bitches in bikinis
  Read between the lines see what I see
  I see the diary of a sick bastard
  Junior Mafia blaster, Rugers on the hips
  Bought coke to flip chips, bought slugs to fill clips
  Flipping coke in corner store bodegas
  In the back room playing Sega, Street Fighter II
  Im inviting you, bring your writing crew and they dopest rhymes
  I get up in that ass every time
  Lyrically Im untouchable, uncrushable
  Getting mad blunted in the 600
  Benz, ask your friends whos the illest
  Licking shots, niggas screaming Biggie Smalls tried to kill us
  You think big you get big, champagne and Moet
  You can party til you sweat, the moneys yours to get
  Cash in abundance, paper stacks in the hundreds
  One thousand for the gators, hard stares for the traitors
  I be a thang slinger, body boom here come the banger
  Your mother should have pulled you out with a fucking hanger
  Word up, whats your motherfucking deal, nigga
  Fuck Polo, you can call me Tommy Real Nigga
  To all emcees that envy thats trying
  Never me and you, take it easy like Mad Lion
  If you mess with me, your family
  Will be missing you like we miss EPMD
  But if you dont believe me you can come and see me though
  And you sure will be over just like Arsenio
  I come-a-calling, you niggas be stalling
  I got the unbelievable like my nigga Smalls and
  Release date, man I cant wait
  That ass getting cash like a New York nigga out of state
  To the ladies dont waste your time
  Only 69 that I do is 69
  Give you drama like 2Pac so you gots to give me dap
  For fun, putting em on the run like Kool G Rap
  Like Michael Jackson off the wall for yall
  Im making people forget you like R Kelly did to Aaron Hall
  In God we trust, in hoes we lust
  In clothes and cash and cars a must
  Yo Im the 86 survivor so bear witness to my theme
  I only play with my team, two hundred thousand in my dream
  Bitches love this curly headed threat, far from a herb
  Draw my nigga and I squeeze for Gs quicker than a serve
  I got styles for miles the Bronx and Harlem runner-up
  You think big you get big, I want it all fuck a cut
  Yo fuck beepers, fuck hustling for sneakers and car speakers
  Give me cars and stores to transform this drug caper
  Hustling moneys dead kid I want Arab and Jew paper
  And now Im the sheik the Lord Tariq
  So let the resurrected Willie speak cause Id rather die upon my feet
  My dress code explodes, paying hundreds for jeans
  Yo I could play a pair of Lees and reign Willie Supreme
  BBS ride the ave beside the African gypsy cab driver
  While I let you check the style of a survivor 
  Your shit is smothered yo I got New York covered
  End of story, Im the last and there will be never be another
  Motherfucker