In 87' dog my man Dame was a cake coppa',
Now he got a grey choppa',
Harlem, Brooklyn, Philly the whole states proper,
42nd strip they ate lobster,
He used to stack up his chips,
crashed up his whip lookin' back at a bitch,
we bout to get twelve jeeps,
91 barber shop up on 12th street,
yeah we turned dope into dollars,
front hair cuts, back dro in the bottle,
any beef Cam was in place,
we got bricks off of Hamilton Place,
Papi came down with the product in the bag,
put the crackhead in the taxi, and we followed the cab,
called Duke he drove him over to Brooklyn,
His baby momma' she once had the drop on us,
copped a bird, and the bitch called the cops on us,
Dame took me off the block,
from hand to hand, to handlin' the coffe pot.
Yo man, O-Jam had them cakes,
Now I got cake, layin up in estates,
he swooped me off the block quick,
got beef, wanna get live come see me.