[Chorus: *sample*]
"And girl we know, you sure enough fine
But conceit has took over, your sweet little mind"
"And girl we know, you sure enough fine
But conceit has took over, your sweet little mind"

[Verse 1: Mic Handz]
Yeah, uh-huh
Handz to your veteran n***as never been better than
Fire and trap be gutting this crap 'cause you n***as let 'em in
Tie up his pappy then slap his pappy with metal pins
Let 'em [?] we fade 'em my n***a, pull the pin
Stay on my money flex, do curls with money bags
Cashing them bloody checks, duffel a money bag
N***as like "You the next", Handz stay like you the fag
All on my dick making me sick now that I wave the flag
We [?] we hold the bar and keep it over head
We play the part you n***as starve my n***as overfed
Hear me, duke better be young [?] better see pop-lock letters around bars when he get at me
Del Rey Marina it I'm meaning it it's all day
I pop a seed in it I'm breeding it, me no play
This ain't a intro I ain't even begin
This hot oil now I'm pushing you in
It's Handz n***a let's go

[Chorus: *sample*]
"And girl we know, you sure enough fine
But conceit has took over, your sweet little mind"
"And girl we know, you sure enough fine
But conceit has took over, your sweet little mind"
[Verse 2: Sean Price]
Yo, rapper tight appetite for destruction
Faggot dyke grab a knife stabbing something (P!)
Bitch n***as food on dinner plates
Hate everybody n***a I don't discriminate
Wolf, when I hold the heat
One shot turn your face to bologna meat
You know me chief, loud weed rolled in leaf
Ricky Steamboat mean notes wrote on sheets
Mister 'why you get me shot?'
I don't even know yo' ass duke, forgive-me-nots
Fake thugs wanna get me shot, testify on I
Why the fuck you wanna get the cops?
I will twist ya' partner, then transform my gear like Mr. Rodgers
The shit I spit is bonkers, split ya' head bitch, that's divide and conquer
P!

[Chorus: *sample*]
"And girl we know, you sure enough fine
But conceit has took over, your sweet little mind"
"And girl we know, you sure enough fine
But conceit has took over, your sweet little mind"

[Verse 3: Mic Handz]
Pinstripe player, pimping playing in off-white
I been hype, playing my brim tilting it just right
Three quarter trench game, mean with the collar [?]
Gems in the cuff links, hymns in the pleated pants
Cavalli slides match the frames on the eyes
Leather band on the wrist and a buckle on the hide
Roof for the drop and the seats in the ride
I'm the king of conceit, me the beast of the pride
80 karat n***a bossing of course
Use your memory remember me from back in The Source
Giving away diamonds in the clubs of New York
Seven days, seven nights, I'm the talk of New York
Nobody stunting or fronting this me the boy truth
18 buckets of bottles up in ya' boy booth
Behind the bottles are models starting to let loose
Paparazzi catching it haven't googled ya' boy's proof