* unedited lyrics; The PJ's soundtrack is clean

[Intro: Chip Banks of American Cream Team]
What? Aiyyo, y'all wanna do a track wit us or some shit?
We the billion dollar boys club
What you got a hundred thousand for us? The fuck's that?
Three rings and a hair cut or some shit?
Aiyyo, American Cream Team, baby
Heavy hitters, New York City Giants
Gamble for plots and 4 better for spots and things of that nature
Pop off

[Superb of American Cream Team]
I don't rock wit hoes, I puff Optimos
Your label ship gold, but only copper sold
Perb got flows, everybody and God knows
Fuck a bitch for two dimes, she got to cop those
Used to be a thug, now he wear cop clothes
Try to come to the hood and we shot hoes

[Chip Banks of American Cream Team]
I don't care who you got a deal wit or who you chill wit
Banky'll run up in your session and shut you down on some real shit
Till the Chef be like (Chill, kid)
That's word to Abola Perrione, dem not know who they deal wit
Chef Banks, uh-huh, slash Banky
Got the whole world callin Flex tryin to transtate me
Said New Jack City 2, Banky B. Nino, push a 2000 benz-ino
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