[Intro: Kid talking]
Ayo Wrek man, come over here for a second. I seen you on that MTV battle. Aye, whatever happened to that? Did you sign with The Roc? Aye, hold up for a minute. You ain't poppin' bottles with The Roc? But, but, they got money AND bitches! The Roc's like the best label out right now

[Verse One]
I kept my mouth shut through sign ups and kept to myself
Watched the shit talkers fall without needing my help
I kept my mouth shut while other cats dreamed of this wealth
And thought about my younger brother growing up in this Hell
I kept my mouth shut through promos and lack of attention
And watched grown men fight for a CEO's pelvic section
My mouth was shut during your repetitive credits
For albums coming softer than Maria Carey's Christmas records
Still silent when I nearly made it by Swan
Except for dropping one of the weakest rounds I've ever performed
Mem Bleek said the blind cat was one of the meanest
That's funny, cause in hip hop, Bleek's about as blind as he is
Bit my tongue and didn't ask for M.O.P
Staring at Dame, Bleek and Free, the Hell No Three
Do you MC (Hell No!)
Respect me (Hell No!)
Would you be here without Jay-Z? (mmmmm Oh No!)
You fuckin' simple minded, blind to the fact idiots
Can't seem to see I hold more hip hop in one of my fingertips
If even just one of you had a fuckin' ounce of penmanship
You'd understand an MC battle and what it's embedded with
The Young Gunz are like down syndrome kids on sedatives
Nonsense fallin' out they mouth if they don't get their medicine
The Can't Stop, Won't Stop beat's just gotta be evidence
That bullshit's gonna fly while I sit and wait for my genesis
[Hook]
Gentlemen
I'd like to re-restate the facts
That I'm not bitter or sad about a phony contract
Cause truth be told, I wouldn't change my style to join the wack
And when Jay rocks a new label, you fellas bound to collapse
So gentlemen
My tongue is numb to contact
Makin' out with misconceptions got me feelin' off track
And if you ask me again, I'm tellin' you The Roc lacks
Real skill that's why they'll never bring hip hop jack

[Verse Two]
Next they're tellin' me I'm headed to the New Year celebration
A month in advance for me to cook up devastation
I'm supposed to battle a Biggie look-a-like with a sex change
But due to censorship they set up with this Tec lame
You know the ones, talk about guns to be the hype-ist
Runnin' they mouth about who they can and they might split
Fake gangstas who truthfully won't strike shit
The closest you'll get is a high score in Time Crisis
The type to get a freestyle challenge and want to write his
Like deep down inside he's really scared of a white kid
I can't understand bitchy MC's like this
While I came off the top like a freestyle psychic
Ignore the color lines because I don't see race
I just see blatant disrespect all up in my face
And if two written verses wasn't enough of disgrace
This child throws a tie dyed T-shirt in my face
Now The Source wants to get racists to settle scores
Benzino's CD's are gathering dust at the record store
Print a bullshit piece two months after the New Year
So what's a real MC gotta do to get through here?
And after I get a page up in XXL
The Source wants to act like I shouldn't trouble myself
I'd rather had a picture stuck up in the air with shock
Than get five mics for every fuckin' album I drop
[Hook]

Roc-A-Fella (Hell No!)
Armadale (Hell No!)
Posh Spice (Hell No!)
Can't Stop (Hell No!)
Won't Stop (Hell No!)
Young Gunz (Hell No!)
Dame Dash (Hell No!)
'Zino (Hell No!)

Thought I couldn't rock a mic? It's time to let go