It's Going Down

[Intro: Fabolous & DJ Drama]

Fabolous: This is the funeral service right?

DJ Drama: I got my suit on

Fabolous: That's what I thought. aye Drama, Wassup son?

DJ Drama: Bodied 'em!

Fabolous: What it look like nigga? It look like these niggas is dead to me!

DJ Drama: It's finished

Fabolous: Well Fuck that. when we see dead, we call dead where I'm from. These niggas in the club holding greygoose up like it's champagne? DEAD. These bitches with fake tits, fake ass, talking 'bout they real bitches? DEAD. These niggas wearing that guy off the block Gucci, these bitches rockin them lady who come in the salon Louis bags? DEAD

[Verse One: Fabolous]

I got some bad bitches with me every time I come around

Faces be so pretty & they asses be so round

Not Riri or Jay but I'ma say we run this town

Like a casket in the ground, baby it's going down

Real niggas with me every time I come around

If there's money, we gon' go for it like it's 4th down

Patron & lemonade, I don't really do the brown

And like a plane crash nigga, it's going down

[Verse two: Freck Billionaire]

It's going down for that fucking Ben Frank loot

Kill ya dog for that money nigga, like you Frank Luke

All I ever hear is how you get to work with Los

Cause every fuckin' bar is sicker than tuberculose

Dead on arrival, send him to the morgue swift

Get his weight ready, send him to the mortish

I love when a playa-hater show me unbelief (why?)

Cause I won't hesitate to put a nigga underneath

Adios, I have his family wish him farewell

West Philly, I get fly like air mail

Bitches say Freck you ballin' like Golden State

Cause I got the money longer than The Golden Gate

So many carats in the chain, they know I live to spend

Over 65 like a senior citizen (lotta carats)

And this the motherfuckin funeral

Street Fam, we connected like a uni-brow

[Verse 3: Fabolous]

It's goin' down, 12 O'clock ball drop

We push 911's, but we don't call cops

I'm Paul Blart nigga, all I do is mall cop

Being fly gon' be the death of me, check my autops

None of the shit these niggas say should be called hot

My shit stay in niggas' heads, flow bald spots

We get around, that just mean we all got

More American girls than the dolls spot

So, I'm fuckin' somebody's daughter

Brain so wet, she must drink smart water

Have all my money, not a penny shorter

I come through in accounts, end of the 4th quarter (nice)

They say real niggas keep some real bitches wit 'em

These diamonds is bait, I just reel bitches wit 'em

The way they flash, you could take some still pictures wit 'em

I'm so dougie that I get a Lil' Vicious wit 'em

[Verse 4: Paul Cain]

Yes sir, there's still no competition

The fam's hooked, no rehabs or intervention

And rival rappers, we kill 'em dead, they end up missin'

It's going down, like a building set for demolition

And did I mention, every weekend in the club we spendin' niggas' pension

We got these cowards under pressure, can you feel the tension?

I'm the coach, these players think they ballin' till I bench 'em (bench 'em)

And I'm flyer than you ever been, I'm flying where you never been

Chain smokin' Purple Kush, I'm high offa that medicine

I'm no rookie, but I am not a veteran

Not to toot my own horn, but I know who I'm better than

I've got a speech impediment, I-I k-keep stutterin'

F-F-Fi-duh-duh-duh boys, y'all know who I'm running with

Keep that w-work comin' in, money keep d-doublin'

Yeah this town? we runnin' it. if you like it, I love it then

[Verse 5: Red Cafe]

Yeah I got a problematic flow, get acrobatic dough

That mean it flip every month, yeah, mathematical

If a sucker toy with mine, i'ma get radical

Cut 'em with the Gemstar, hit 'em with the Calico (What else)

Dump on his momma house, you see me with llamas out

Layin' out my thug shit, narcotic drug shit

If nobody move, then nobody gettin' bodied

We in the penthouse, over lookin' everybody

I'm a over achiever, shine over shade

I keep my hoes over fucked & underpaid

Still rock a Rolex, in Miami it roll ex

Move through the club, the family skip the coat check

Leave blood on the floor, like it skipped the co-tecs

We thugs baby, get green gold jets

Third Row flow, I'm a shocker major

See I always keep it raw, no stockin' on my gig what else?