"Y'all cats know we always play to win" ->Guru
"Players get your pay up"
[Verse One: Guru]
For my respect, I just might have to shut you down
Hang your punk ass from a limb, they'll have to cut you down
See I'm tired of you faggots kickin dirt on my name
While you rap clone phonies only hurtin the game
I'm too persistant, plus I flow too vicious
Bout to expose you hoes, this shit is too twisted
Rappers be actin, like they rich or somethin
When they get robbed like a herb, that's what they get for frontin
I'm in the top ten, one of the best of all time
Been known to drop men - who CARES if the rest of y'all rhyme?
You're mediocre son, you're barely average kid
Your style's Chi-Chi, wanna see me crack yo' cabbage kid?
From the hood to the corporate, give up your goods and forfeit
This is George Foreman style, watch me cook this raw shit
More chips, watch us rake 'em in
And y'all cats know we always play to win
[scratching by Premier]
"Y'all cats know we always play to win" ->Guru
"Real.. rough rhymes"
"Y'all cats know we always play to win" ->Guru
"Players get your pay up"
[Verse Two: Guru]
I'm hot so they're feelin me, you're not so you're killin me
You're hatin on the low, tried to block my soliloquy
While you spread rumors, I'ma dead you junior
Have your mind blown, poundin your dome like head tumors
Family tradition when I'm randomly spittin
And girls love my voice, they say it's handsomely different
I never won awards, no Grammys and things
Back in the days did sticks, made niggaz hand me they rings
What goes around comes around, they tried me later
But I survived a