Your Way Cam'ron (Ft. J.R. Writer & Juelz Santana)

[Verse 1: J.R. Writer]

Aight - yo
I ain't gon' front, I always thought he was a survivor
Shells and rounds, held 'em down, when he was in the fire
Now feds got him tapped from the sneakers to attire
Just like Kanye West, speakin' through the wire
Like: "Don't forget, make sure you speak into the wire!"
Thinkin' not he was singin', he would be up in the choir
When I find 'em, I'ma put the heater to his visor
All he's gon' see is the screechin' on the tire
Up the block, bang a right, make a left
Thang I light, made 'em stretch
Candlelights, graves are set
Not only that though - all his weight was wet
Hustle dummies, fucked up money, and was way in debt

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
It was all good just a week ago
We was together smokin', hella reefer smoke
All in the vehicle
I got the word back: he was in the vehicle
With the D's, I bet he thought he was low
Damn, this nigga spent the night in my crib
Sat in my mom's kitchen, now he go off snitchin'
But this my man, I could just stop fuckin' wit' 'em
Like I'm just not fuckin' wit''em...or just pop one up in 'em
Plus - there's rules here: if you play where the rats play
You gotta go, you must lay where the rats lay
Hate to see a nigga that I broke bread with
His whole head split - cold, dead, stiff