Intro (Cam'Ron/Purple Haze) - Cam'Ron

Uh, how y’all doing out there?

I wanna welcome y’all back

Welcome some of y’all for the first time, huh?

Killa

We did it again, y’all don’t fuck with us

Suck a dick man, ayo Jones, what’s good?

Santana, Freekey

They gon' be mad this time, huh?

Ayo I got my man Kay Slay up in the house

Harlem, you know what it is, what’s good?

You know how we get down, East side, El BARRIO

El Barrio up in this bitch, ayo Kay

This bitch blowing up my motherfucking phone right now

Man, fuck, hold up, hol', yo man

Yo son

What’s good?

I gotta tell you like my dog told me

When you meet a chick, you gotsta straight slap her

Slap her?

Yeah, when you first meet her, just slap her

Off the bat?

Off the bat, just backhand her

Why’s that, though?

Cause later on down the line

You ain’t never gotsta to worry about

That chick telling you --

«Cam, you don’t treat me the way you used to»

That’s what I’m saying, nigga

But see the thing is with me

I don’t understand how a bitch can go out

Rain, sleet, snow, fuck, suck whoever

And then go give another nigga her fucking money

Knahmean?

Nah Cam, you gotta understand

That’s cause ya game is tight

Oh, nah, not me Ka', I’m talking about another nigga

I know my game is tight, nigga, knowhamean?

We getting ready set this shit the fuck off

Jones, where we at, huh?

Harlem, Harlem, Harlem…

Yo, yo, I advise you to step son

'Fore I fuck your moms, make you my stepson

Y’all be calling me daddy, cause

The Rag Muffin y’all soon say

Y’all fuck around with brother Num-say

Y’all gon' see doomsday

I’m a savage but colder

Now I rock karats that I’m older

See this parrot on my shoulder?

He do the talking, I ain’t concerned with words

Act up, and be returned to the birds

I return with them birds, any 28 grams

A bitch that I touch, pretty much turns to birds

I be in Miami, Boca Raton, poking your moms

Her and ya aunt all over the Don

Using a dope then I’m gone, back

Copacabana, no joke I’m bananas

Cops come for dope it’s a damper

I’m low in Atlanta, get hot, go to Savana

Rush the crib, go in the hamper

Don’t follow me, «Stan-a»

If you do, I’m blowing the hammer

That’ll rip that vest apart, hit ya chest and heart

I ain’t finished, that’s just the start

You’ll be calling for back up, praying for help

Fuck my life, I’m taking myself

All the aching I felt

In my crib at night, praying for wealth

Bitches dissing, «What's the problem ma?

I ain’t balling?»

Now every ten minutes, hoe prank calling

Yo Cam, fuck all this rap shit, man

Let’s get down to business, Harlem…