Текст песни: JR Writer. Pay Homage.

:
(40 Cal.)

40!
ok J.R.
it's like memorable moments again
ya dig,dipset
i mean...so much fuckin cake in the buildin(so much cake in the buildin)
ya'll wouldn't believe man
that's why my niggas got pies and shit
enough of all that

Verse 1
(40 Cal.)

uh, you see my money like a baggel shop
why i make the powder blow
first i get papi bread,then i make sour dough
you still (pumpa nickel?) move every hour slow
my work's so powerful, yo money ours bro
it's no baggel jokes,but for butter i be raisin toast
like a bread truck, i keep the latest loafs
i serve beef, grab pounds and squeeze
i'm sick with the 40.,call it mad cow disease
my niggas get down for cheese,and felony wraps
ya'll niggas hamsters,really cant tell if they rats
but,you call a turtle when the shell in they back
i play eight ball for menace i can help you with that
then im,back to melt the track,soon as the vanilla crack
two-door,NSX thats a selfish act
mack to ya pelvis black,i'll put you where Elvis at
walkin pawn shop when i take ya chain and sell it back,crack.

(chorus)
(J.R. Writer)

It's the Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
you guys are not a threat,pay homage to the best nigga
Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
we got the streets owned,you can not compete homes
It's the Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
any problems its a wrap,we put Harlem on the map yes
Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
you now rockin with the best,pay homage to the set

Verse 2
(J.R. Writer)

Ok,im ready,Uh
listen i'm bout flippin',but if the slouch trippin
i'll put some scratch on his head like his scalp ithchin'
dig it J.R. is hot,whippin the car is drop
barbies watch,the dealer admit it i'm hard to top
hater i'm back,face it you wack,J.R. is crack
the same thing they place in a pack,I stay in the trap
so no you wont hear 8-0-8 when i put some damn base on the track
i bring the fiends out,give them niggas what they need
i dont see droughts,it is figures what i see
bring them keys out,to the middle of the p's
no matter the temperature degree
rain,sleet,snow,i'm pitchin them for sheeze'
pure bricks,you'll have to go to Switzerland for these
i get em often breeze
its easy to the beast
you should bow down the next time you see me in the streets.

(chorus)
(J.R. Writer)

It's the Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
you guys are not a threat,pay homage to the best nigga
Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
we got the streets owned,you can not compete homes
It's the Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
any problems its a wrap,we put Harlem on the map yes
Dip...dip,dip,dip,dip,dip,dipset
you now rockin with the best,pay homage to the set

(Thanks to Kris for these lyrics)