[Billy Danze]
Yo, a lot of people depend on me (strongly)
I no longer wanna pursue situations wrongly
They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be
So I switched the game around, and now it's on me
(You control your destiny) You n***as keep testin' me
Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be
(You're still a bang-banger) One of Saratoga's finest
But first involved, the 'tician denyin' law, making ya highness [???]

(Yo Bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?
Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!)

As I struggle to get my hands on a dollar today
I think back about cats that have passed away
That's why I feel more cursed than blessed
And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress
I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse
Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin' out my chest
I smoke too many cigarettes, and the Remy won't
Wash away the pain or get strain off my brain
See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here
A shootout, is like a common cold out here
That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all
When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all
I'm from Saratoga Avenue, I had to brawl!
It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all
You hear me talkin to y'all? I'm on some grown Danze shit
(You'll be coming of age) My life is on a different page, able to tame my rage
A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge
A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage
Take a look at me now – a born winner
In a race against time, like Bruce Jenner
A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me
(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!
{*beat changes*}

[Lil' Fame]
You are now tuned in to the Works Of Mart
Take two steps back – it's gon' hurt you, pa!
Who the fuck talkin' that they gon' hurt Jamal?
This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper
Un-pretty type rapper, gritty type rapper
Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper
With them O.G.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted
Like bamboo with no trees in it
Fall back, motherfucker – you can't beat me
It's the Womack, the extension of Danzini
We came into the game with some change for train fare
Two Phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer
Now look at him, they hittin' the scene slow
Hoo-ridin' in hoopties, but I'm lookin mean, yo
With a gangster lean though, big doggin' it
With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe
I know the pros and cons so I married the game
Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name
I'm in the streets like a dope fiend with a shoppin' cart filled up with copper
Who the fuck gon' stop Fame?
Y'all n***as keep waiting 'til they pop Fame
And hold your breath while you wait, bitch – I got game
N***as ain't feelin' the Fame, bitch? Stop dreamin'
I'm the shit that felt good comin' out of my pop's semen
Hit the streets and thug with me
No matter how disgruntled you sound n***a, you can't fuck with me
Too many dick-riders that's quick to go "blaow!"
But look, bitch – I'ma let you know now:
You fuckin' with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?!
I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin' with me
Cause I'm a n***a of the Earth (Earth!), n***a of the sea (Sea!)
N***a of the sky and (Fire!!!), flame fire
Why don't I-ah, dump back at your men?
It's M.O.P. and we at it again, ah-heh!
I ain't clappin' over your head
I'mma make sure I pop somethin' through ya
Givin' motherfuckers ulcers with lead
Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed
May the Lord be with you – game over, you're dead
Motherfucker!