Put your hands up
Put your hands up

Ladies and gentleman your now rockin' with the best
Just Blaze,
Put your hands up Swizzy,
Put your hands up Diddy
One two three here we go

Microphone check one two what is this?
The Yardfather coming to give niggas the business
It's so beyond rap, cock sucker we live this
So um, come on baby, come on, come on and witness
The next ten years of this shit, the slickness is deliberate
Lyrically it's as sick as it get
I been in the pen, been in the jects, been in the inter taps
I been in the Benz, been in the Lex, been in the M.S.X.
Yes, I run ringers around the fraudulent type
Come here and I'll show you that I spit on just more then a mic
I make it hard for niggas to breathe, please
These wicked emcees squeeze
Hammers like the Pampers used to squeeze, hit the D.T.
I Mike Tyson ya eye, put a permanent ring around it
Then go run in the booth and sing about it
Look, if I don't hurt the nigga that play with my wealth
I'm like me on Entourage god, I'm playing myself, let's go

[Chorus]
Hold up, the pump will make you jump up
Put ya body in the trunk
(Don't you baby, don't you baby, don't ya baby)
Keep goin' now
New York, and all the way to Cali
And the South'll make ya jump
(Come on baby, come on baby, come on baby)
Don't touch the boy, yup
Hold up, the pump will make ya jump up
Put ya body in the trunk
(Come on baby, come on baby, come on baby)
I'll whip ya ass from
New York, and all the way to Cali
And the South'll make ya jump
One two three we gone!

You ain't crazy, don't you play me, don't you know its Jay-Z
When internet ask you who's the best, why wont you say me?
Don't you hate me, c'mon baby, was it all gravy
I took my lumps comin' up just like a boxer baby
My first style may be if I stutter, maybe
But then I slowed it down brought it from the gutter baby
Matterfact, I don't give a fuck what you rate me
Record labels told me, guess what the fuck that make me
Super rich, stupid bitches know I'm super viscous
Like standin' over a wounded man with two biscuits
Lets get it clear like eucalyptus if you conflicted
My flow is like the Cuban missile crisis
Nigga my hand missiles is priceless,
I hide a couple rare jewels in a verse
For my niggas that like to listen like this
Gotta let it do what it do baby

[Chorus]

Four finger, three finger, two finger, one finger
Hum dinger, gun slinger, that's what I am
Trying to get some cash in my hand as fast as I can
So you should, come on baby, come on, come on and fuck wit' ya man
I got this rap shit down to a science
Alotta niggas shit is aight but they ain't fucking with Ryan
First there was some defiance, until I formed an alliance
With Justin, he plugged me in, now I'm as hot as a fucking iron
You lying, all the gunplay talk
Knowing behind closed doors you be practicing on ya runway walk
I been in the kill, been in the cap, been in the box and back
I been in the 'ville, tripping the gat, trimming a boxing match
And I still walk around this fucker with not a scratch
And that's way more then I can say for a lot of cats
My name's Saigon nigga
Break bread mu'fucka' 'fore I break ya fucking head lil' sucka'

[Chorus]

Copyright: O/B/O DistroKid, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): BRIAN CARENARD, JUSTIN SMITH, KASSEEM DEAN, PETER WOLF, SETH JUSTMAN, SHAWN 'JAY Z' CARTER