Artist: Joe Budden f/ Fabolous, Lloyd Banks, Royce Da 5'9"
Album:  Mood Muzik 4: A Turn 4 The Worst
Song:   Remember the Titans
Typed by: PDog1217@aol.com

[Intro - Fabolous - talking]
Uh, yeah
(J-J-J-J. Cardim)
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1 - Fabolous]
These niggaz losin they minds, you find that there's no reward
They say they already home, it's really clear they abroad
They sound like they boxed in, it's not just where they record
There's a cost to be a boss, they can't clearly afford
Swear to the Lord, this gun's like an audience
You put on a show, my .40 clearly applauds
Sittin fifth row, I might appear to be bored
Plottin on a Kanye by screamin "where's my award?" (award)
Ballin out of control, never won an ESPY
'Bout to buy a black Ghost and name that shit SP
Flow out of this World, I'm comin for my moon man
You niggaz slide back like that walkin on the moon dance
No glitter gleam, handgun with a beam
Have some boys follow you, Street Fam, Twitter team
Like you could fuck with me, oh did it seem
Dr. King and Def Jam ain't the only ones with "A Dream" (with A Dream)
I'm a grown ass man, this kid a teen
You're a spoof of me like if hip-hop did a "Scream"
Audi coupe lookin good, so I went and copped it
Got that TT poppin like a trending topic
My ride's mat black, my pride is that jack
It might get ya dog shot, even a cat smacked
Anyway though, styles don't apply to me
Jeff Goldblum couldn't be more "Fly" to me
Shorty say right after the suck, fuck poof
You hit it on the head girl, duck, duck goose
You should of got the message that I chuck up deuce
Break 'em off and leave it, you see my fucked up tooth
It's fuck a bitch, there's more fish in the aquarium
I rarely hear no, like when niggaz ask you to marry them
There's no lights in the place you buy your jewelry from
Funeral Fab, I'm just here to bury them

[Verse 2 - Joe Budden]
Reportin live from the beacon, booth tired from the beatin
Had foreplay all day, preppin the beatin the mic for a threesome
With my vocal, bicoastal, speedin 'til the ride's totaled
Mr. Wi-Fi, out a franchise go to
Magic, standby locals
Watch the track bust once I show my dick size to the Pro Tools (talk to 'em)
I teach you how to have models screamin "get behind me!"
E-pills and Maybach's ain't gon' matter if your tip is tiny
Nevermind me, we could get knee deep in the beef
Seek me with the heat but you'll need more to keep me on a leash
Here's a cc for the peeps that wanna see me in the streets
Invest in Rockports and be easy on your feet
Give a few hammers, a few semis and a few snubs
To a few Crips, couple vampires and "True Bloods"
Gamblin in casinos, have a hunnie handin me my c-notes
To her I'm a modern day Gambino
I'm careful every step I take (uh)
You the nigga walk up in a shootout with some pepper spray (uh)
That'd be the last mistake you ever make
Me I chop his head off from a rooftop
And racin downstairs just to see if I can catch his fade
Like groceries when I'm shootin at fags
Make sure the bread's separated and put the fruits in a bag
Withstand the hatred, dudes is fallin off doin all they can to save it
But everybody's run stops, ask Brandon Jacobs
What y'all call swag to me is all faggotry
Fours wanna blaat at me, that'd equal more casualties, abort the strategy
Or get attacked with that Duracell they put in your back, now that's assault and battery
You can keep the bitchin to yourself
There's beams on every burner, these lasers, a petition wouldn't help
What good is havin shooters if they the type that miss?
Where I'm from, better be careful where you drive that whip
Niggaz put they life at risk for pies that flip
In my "Town", Ben Affleck wouldn't try that shit
And if he did, he'd get turned around, burnt down
Tell the new jacks it'll be a while 'fore they eligible to earn the crown

[Verse 3 - Lloyd Banks]
Uh, acid out the baggie, this is more than dope, flawless flow
Fuckin off a sign every horoscope that wore my robe
Strappin up the corner cold, critical, unquestioned, my opponents know
I shoot like Capono, watch me own the show
Chromatose, toasted, gettin money while I roam the coast
Stones and boats, mansions, homes and hos, I deserve 'em both
Overdose, time to earn my votes, watch me turn the volts
Voltage through a hater, this electric chair, danger
Yeah, I see ya, now make way 'fore it turn to diarrhea
Here a microphone'll give ya three of everything I wear, yeah
Models by the pair, swear, bottles, private Lear, steer
Style that's out of here, rare, thousands by the chair, squares
Sleep with me, you can't hear, war with me is scary
Get beat silly tryin to lamp here, better bring your theory heat
I got a drop damp here, niggaz try me barely
No one breathes, I need an ant's ear, pressure's necessary
Got my mind on the cheddar, kill my haters together
Bury 'em in abundance and starve their family's stomachs
Paper come in my thumb it's, brand new fifties and hundreds
On point, just like the drum is, I'm warnin their baby mothers
Got the hunger of a broke rapper, kill you while I'm rollin up, then smoke after
Catch you at your show, snatch ya, empty out the dough faster
Bentley off the scene, Magnum mo' splasher, four packer
Southside nigga spittin coke at ya

[Verse 4 - Royce Da 5'9"]
Nickel! This is for the fronters and the naysayers
I'm about to scare away the drummers and the bass players (bass players)
They say I'm out of my league on this one
So when I get done I want you to cut your fuckin ears off and Twitpic 'em
Lord (Lord), I want you to leave this vicinity
You gon' be around here 'bout long as Justin Bieber's virginity
This is Jesus identity, mixed with weed, Hennessey, Kennedy, King
Mixed with a kill or be killed, killer regime, illest you've seen, switch (switch!)
Y'all write all that hard shit, then ya fall right off, it's horrible
My oracle is all I offer, so before I borrow yo
Won't be here tomorrow flow
Sorry, I will probably adios my body with somebody toast (toast)
This shit just practice, sickest rappin Baptist
Kill your pastor, steal your chapstick
After that make you kiss a cactus
Then, take your ho, make the ho give the whole clique fellatio
Everyone, that wasn't the whole "Entourage" on HBO
Then after that, I tell her, I can't do much with ya, shorty
I just found out I could fly to Dubai and hire Buffie the Body! (Buffie the Body)
Don't call us if the bitches ain't flawless
If they are then we can hang like Aretha Franklin braless
The drunk me can box like a sober you
The sober me be more nervous than Waka Flocka in the voting booth (voting booth)
We beef like bein deep and dumpin K's (dumpin K's)
You beef like Lady Gaga and her stylist (stylist)
Y'all get together to look good in front of a bunch of gays (gay)
My feng shui is a pump in the desert
You'll come up shorter than an Asian jumpin out of a trunk in the desert
While my "Wolfpack" looks for strippers and cocaine
Niggaz snitchin, it's a shame, we call 'em male tattlers
Fiends touchin they noses more than URL battlers
It's hard to spit saliva when you spit fire, so I'll just

Pour sugar in your gas tank
Put a banana in your tailpipe
A huh, so the car can fit the driver (*explosion*)