Way down inside

[verse 1: N.O.R.E]
Murderous monsoons, intentions explode
I reload but still respect the street code
My n***a T though
He got the wire from a n***a that's a liar
Throw gasoline on him, set him on fire
Have that ass retire
Sniper scope, got the rifle, hope
Triflin', pipin' karate choked
He had the windbreaker pants on
He got his dance on
He found out he's a girl rocking tampon
He got his man gone
Excuse the smokers, we meet at Strokers
Cognac cigars, play a little pokers
We watch them bitches strip down ass naked
You see the money cover they body, they ass naked

Way down inside
You come at the King, you best not miss

[Verse 2: Kool G Rap]
Cop on the block in a hot Suburban
Better yet Excursion
Cribbing us some birds but I'm serving in the urban
My type, the iceberg version swerving with a surgeon
Got 'em working the curb and money
Big money splurgin', Julius Irving
Shirt around the whip like a turban
Rich n***a lettuce, got a six figure fetish
No flaws in none of the stones, they all big and precious
No bitch in none of the clique, they all young and restless
We all money investors with big guns and vests
Switch, running to Texas see us ones in the necklace
Louis the thirteen, yeah that Louis shirt clean
Buckle a Louis skirted up from Louis that turf cream
He got yay stacks in factories, spray cats exactly
In fact the whole faculty layed back in Maybachs
[?] gators, linen, many mansions get catered by women
Chauffers, the waiters are winning
Shit swarming with French maid uniforms, got the paper to swim in
Hate spending from the way that I'm winning
You know the deal baby
Way down inside
You come at the King, you best not miss

[Verse 3: Twone Gabz]
I put my hands around your neck like some rosary beads
To choke and squeeze
And lift you up like the potency of some potent weed
'Til there's no ground to float beneath below your feet
And your voice squeak like Macy Gray's before you speak
My scrotum reach about four inch below my knees
Confident level is on OD, no coke or weed
I'm just deep, I overthink and I'm over writing
When I talk tall, shit I'm writing right over your height
I wait on lightning to strike while I'm holding the kite
Singing John Lennon "All the People" while holding a light
Eat a box of them Mike & Ikes while I'm rolling the bike
Through the hood, flipping the bird trying to provoke a fight
You was under the fittin' to rhyme act
Only to find that you was under the out your mind act
Joe you under the out of time act
I single file n***as under the out of line act

Way down inside
You come at the King, you best not miss