[Verse 1: Beanie Sigel]
Uh, nigga, you're gutted, your paper on a budget
You ain't got a pot to piss in, no bucket
You niggas call ass on facts you can't cover
Your homie got bread, but you dead luggage!
Tommy Tucker, neighborhood sucka
Your baby mama duck ya, your bitches won't fuck ya
You petty, thief, your name is "Don't trust ya"
Better stay out them peoples' store 'fore the cops cuff ya!
David Ruffin, Eddie Kane puffer
Nights like this, you wish for bread and butter
The raindrops fall on your head with no umbrella
Fella, eh, you're broke, you're busted, you're gutted!
[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]
You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain't buttered
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted!
You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget!
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets
Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!
[Verse 2: Beanie Sigel]
Bitch, you're gutted, your whole twist fucked up
Your knees stay scuffed up from sucking that nut up
Just to get a buck to get your hair did, done up
Your manicuring refill them bare feet cheap heels
Or them dollar store Chinese slippers
Your weave track slippin', kitchen full of dishes
House full of Bébé's Kids that stay shitting
Baby bottle empty, your rent check missing
You rock Gucci this and that but your kids bummy
You letting strangers claim them for income tax money
You need a whole foot in your ass, that shit you pulling
You weekend looker, you [?] hooker, you gutted!
[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]
You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain't buttered
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted!
You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget!
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets
Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!
[Verse 3: Jay-Z]
You just gon' fake it 'til you make it, huh?
Rented houses on MTV, you tapin' them
Fine hoes in your videos, you drapin' them
Green screens of the projects, you safe in them!
Fine cars in your videos, you pay for them?
Shit, I can't knock your hustle, though, you make it fun
Dear rappers: you been fooling the public
People starting to think y'all real, do something!
See what we do when niggas do 200?
It's on like the platinum to us; chew, snuff 'em
Back to life, you're not reality
Your salary is like celery
We eatin' over here, nigga, you're like salad to me!
Get your weight up, get your steak up
Those little acres, get your estate up
To face us, you're gon' need an island
It's imaginary players take 2000, you're gutted!
[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]
You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain't buttered
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted!
You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget!
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets
Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!
[Outro: Jay-Z (Beanie Sigel)]
You gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
You talking 'bout that bread but your bread ain't buttered
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, uh, uh, you gutted!
You talking Ace of Spades but you balling on a budget!
Yeah, yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
(You see us, VIP, gold bottles in them buckets
Yeah, you gutted, yeah, yeah, you gutted
When the Roc Boys in the house, open bar, we got it covered!)
