Yo Shaun
Send them n*ggas down the way so they can get bombed
They don't know I got the land mines in the lawn
All eyes on me
I'mma get you sucka, from the moment that you pull the truck up
Get the f*ck out and shut the f*ck up
You gettin' stuck up
In front of all ya n*ggas at The Rucker
Tough luck, motherf*cker
Unless you want everybody to suffer
Stop it before I c*ck back and put some hot sh*t
Up in the c*ckpit
Get on some on-the-block sh*t
Get all up in yo pockets
It's not a game: gimme the change
Six in the door, one in the brain
Fifth-gear gas in the flow, switchin' the lanes
I gets down diggy-down down, flexin' downtown
Six b*tches in the whip, equipped with surround sound
Bump it so the hood know I'm comin' through in a minute
Windows tinted when you see me in it, thought it was a rented (nope)
As you can see, it's just Jem and his women
This minute, the six truck procession behind us
Jem and them keep gentlemen tremblin'
Could be some trouble simmerin'
Remember when I used to start n*ggas out with the Timberlands?
A hundred n*ggas outside the club, Jim Gitterman
But if a bag of cinnamon brown-skinned shorty, then I'm in to win
I'm Jem, n*gga
Need trim, like a big truck need rims
Like a baller need a Maybach Benz, what?
Shorty get me off, I call back then, yup