Intro: Juelz Santana

Just blaze (Oh Baby) oh baby, uh, killa

Verse 1: Cam’ron
All the girls see the (Boy) look at his kicks (Boy)
Look at his car (Boy) all I say is (Oh Boy)
Look mami I’m no good I’m so hood
Clap at your soldiers sober then leave after it’s over
Killa, I’m not your companion or your man standin’
Hit me when you wanna get rammed in, I’ll be scramblin’
With lot’s of mobsters shop for lobsters
Cops and robbers listen every block is blocka (Blocka!!!)
But she like the way I diddy bop you peeped that
Mink on maury kicks plus chanel ski hat
She want the (Boy) so I give her the (Boy)
Now she screamin’ out (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)
Now she playin’ with herself Cam dig it out lift her up
Ma it’s just a fuck girl get it out pick one up
They want the boy Montana with guns with bandanas
Listen to my homeboy Santana

Verse 2: Juelz Santana
Y’all niggas can’t fuck with the (Boy) I’m tellin’ ya (Boy)
Put a shell in ya (Boy) now he bleedin’ (Oh Boy)
Get him call his (Boy) he weezin’ he need his (Boy)
He screamin’ (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)
Damn shut up (Boy) he’s snitchin’ (Oh Boy)
This nigga’s bitchin’ (Boy) he’s twistin’ (Oh Boy)
If feds was listenin’ (Boy) damn, whoa, damn….
I’m in trouble need bail money, shit
Where the fuck is my (Boy) I got trust for my (Boy)
That’s why I buck with my (Boy) that’s my nigga (Oh Boy)
He ‘gon come get his (Boy) he got love for his (Boy)
That’s my (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)

Verse 3: Cam’ron
When he got caught with the (Boy) we went to court for the (Boy)
Just me and my (Boy) and we sayin’ (Oh Boy)
Be on the block with my (Boy) with the Roc fella (Boy)
When the cops come……squalin’!!!!
Yeah this is for the sports cars, Benitas, Jimmy’s
PJ’s, old school, eighteenth at the sports bar
Eight or nine on the (Boy) holla at your boy
Killa…holla….listen, it’s the D-I-P (Boy)
Plus the R-O-C (Boy) you’ll be D-O-A (Boy)
Your moms will say (Oh Boy)
Shit, ain’t no stoppin’ ‘em guns we got alot of ‘em
Matter fact gurus start poppin’ ‘em
Then slap up his (Boy) clap up his (Boy)
Wrap up his (Boy) get them gats (Oh Boy)
Diplomats are them (Boy) for the girls and the (Boy)
Say (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy)

Verse 4: Juelz Santana
Now when they see Cam and his (Boy) they say damn (Oh Boy)
Santana’s that (Boy) that squeeze hammers (Oh Boy)
Canons and bandanas glammers we don’t brandish
Blam at your man’s canvas then scram with your man’s leaded
And I’m back with my (Boy)

Cam’ron
Until that man is vanished somewhere in the Grand Canyon
These kids are grand standin’
niggas demand ransom over them grands scramblin’ (Boy, Boy, Boy,Boy)
Well fuck it Van Damme ‘em Cam a blam blam ‘em
Call up his (Boy) I’m down south tannin’
Mami I got the remedy Tommys up at the enemy
Hire me somebody but now my body you’re feelin’ fanicky
Killa and Coppa we chill in Morocco for reela
We got what you chill it though and fill with them hollows, huh
It’s the (Boy) I said it’s the (Boy)
I’m the (Boy, Boy, Boy, Boy) Killa….

For lovin me girl
Just wanna thank you
Look at what you can do man
Free I like this shit right here man
Girl c’mon
Let’s do it like this
Santana’s so focused on you
Come holla at a boy that’s focused on you

[Juelz Santana]
Shorty I ain’t tryin to give you the run around
I’m just tryin to come get you a run around
Skip through a couple towns
Maybe skip through a couple rounds
If your man act dumb I’ma shut him down
I’m sorta a long distance brother
Long checks,long chips, long dick and rubber
Come roll with a pimp or gangsta
Hustler by nature
Trust that I’ll take ya
I’ll show you the rules and perimeters
Show you how to move with the ooze how to handle it
Show you how to cut loose soon as we scramble it
On the block as soon as the moon it be scramblin’
And you can be my down ass bitch
Yeah baby that’s for sure
I’m a show you how package raw
How to snap it on
How to take trips with the package on
How to go and come back with the package gone
Just stacks of cash beyond

And ya’ll nigaz betta cuff ya girls
Cuz Santana and jones is runnin up the girls (Yeah)
No game just fuck your girls
But who am I to corrupt the world? (Yeah)

Give her pounds, give her pies, giver her cake
Hit a town, hit a city, hit a state
Every club, every party, we fly
Bagging bitches every party and high

[Jim Jones]
Please believe Jimmy Jizzie’s the truth
Every where I go to brezies I’m true
Man they tell me that I over does it
You need to slow up you over thugging (So What)
But the hoes slugging in the open public
I smoke like fuck it, I just roll up puffing
Now they roll up fucking
Take two totes and love it
Yeah yeah plus my bitches swear
I’m like Richard Gere, put them in my coup moving fast switching gears
Get it crystal clear
Stay crispy to the fit in every kick I wear
She was feeling my gangsta (gangsta) summer time And1 jeans my tank top
I’m on the scene with the dice like banks stock get money man (yeah uh)
Baby girl I’m a player with pass ball
Moving fast hundred grand on the black fall
Please love get your feet up off my dads velour
This is cash droor we gonna clash course

And ya’ll nigaz betta cuff ya girls
Cuz Santana and Jones is runnin up the girls (Yeah)
No game just fuck your girls
But who am I to corrupt the world? (Yeah)

Give her pounds, give her pies, giver her cake
Hit a town, hit a city, hit a state
Every club, every party, we fly
Baggin bitches every party and high