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[Verse 3: T.I.]
I refuse to lose, I rather give these weak dudes the blues
And separate them from they jewels, teach 'em don'ts and do's
I raise tools, make crews make decisions confused
All spectators can say is, "This lil' [bad word] s a fool"
short fuse with some loose screws, some unscrewed
Better prove, you niggaz [bad word] as the Moulan Rouge
So who guardin' who, you know who to you know what
To you know where, goin' 'gainst 'em's too unfair
'Cause everywhere you do a show he got kinfolk there
Now you know I ain't no ?, I got ten folk there
They ain't powerful as the one at the end of your prayer
Got you runnin' for your life without a minute to spare
Catch you dead to the granite, melt the grease in your hair
When I go, them boys is gonna be indecent affair
Guarantee you nah a real [bad word] breathin' accounted
At your funeral, just your parents and the preacher was there
Hollow, television name-dropper reachin' for help
So I ain't gotta say a word, pimp you beatin' ya'self
You gon' get what you deserve for disrespectin' the game
Any [bad word] with the nerve to say another man name
When that other man ain't even present
And deny it when somebody ask him about it
That [bad word] s a lame, you like to lie on the mic
Hide behind fame, I was a when I came
That's the way I remain
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