(feat. Paul Cain)    [Intro - Fabolous]  Uh, you think I give a fuck about what these niggas say man  They even talked about Jesus    [Fabolous]  I ain't mad at when it rain, cause I know the sun is somewhere shinin  Sorta like some clear diamonds  I hardly see my moms, but she know her son is somewhere grindin  Some where rhymin, or somewhere climbing  Out of a pottable 760, inclasable very sticky  Wit a handgun, to send these cowards to Heaven quickly  I ain't pussy, so I won't allow you to ever dick me  I know these greaseballs, wonder how could they ever stick me  But I move, like the President through town  Wit stones the size of earrings, in my Presidential crown  I put hollows from the Desert into clowns, cause the cemetary  Is where most of the dudes, that are hesitant are found  So I take the time, of whatever the bench throw  The 4BM put down, in a seventy-two inch hole  Mean while getting adapted, to the fame has be hectic  But I'm fucking like I'm tryna take down Chamberlain's record  And the girls more than like you, when you running run  Doing world tours like Michael, but girl's sure don't like you  You going on like thirty-six, flowin on some berry mix  The little money you get, you blowing on them dirty chicks  Tryna look young, so you throwing on the jersey quick  I'm on my second V-12, you going on ya thirty-six  You can look at this rider, and see I'm on the come-up  Cause I pass the hitch-hikers, like I don't see 'em with they thumb up  I just turn the system up and keep boppin  I never get, where I'm tryna go, if a nigga keep stoppin  And I tell the cops, this joint is for protection  Don't they see when I come through, how these people point in my direction  That's why I poke out my jeans, like my joint with a erection  Till I'm in a joint made for correction  And right now, the way rapper bi'ness spread  It wouldn't even surprise me, if one of these rappers is a Fed, nigga    [Paul Cain]  Since I'm in the position to get rich, I'ma get it  Whether it come from rapping on blocks, flipping and pitching  And fuck the stove, and the kitchen where I cook and prepare it  (Nigga you know) and don't try to act like the truth ain't apparent  I'm on a mission to get richer, it's as simple as that  I make it obvious, when I pick up a pencil and rap  Like a .40 Cal, spittin on instrumentals I clap!  And these verses, are like the hollow point I sent through yo back  I get you murdered if I think you a wrap  Cause if you don't show loyalty, then that show me where ya principles at  And you don't know how much I been through, in fact  I never did like you, I ain't even gon' pretend wit you cats  And I'm the nicest, I ain't gotta say it twice and repeat it  I'm a lyrical genius, I never been beated, defeated  I'ma draw my weapon and squeeze it, you better believe it  Leave you parapaligic, I demand respect and I mean it  My Desert's the meanest, you probably dead if you seen it  Or spored out somewhere sick, you get red on the cement  And I blow off ya head for no reason, and just when I'm leavin  You don't know me ya on me homie, but the spread make us even, BLOAW!    [Outro - Paul Cain]  And the bad part about it is man, haha  I'm only twenty years old man  And I'm just havin fun  Man I ain't even tryin man  Desert Storm's youngest, and in charge man  Paul Cain, man  Yo Fab man, you ain't even gotta go hard man  I got these niggas man  Clue! Holla at cha boy  Skatin Dolla  Duro! it's our year man  Desert Storm, we gon' kill niggas man  You already know what it is  It's a ho'cide man  Stop "Street Dreamin"