Lyrics:

Say, hoe...yeah! you...
Can I ask you a question?
Can you get in where you fit in, bitch?

Get mad if you want, I won't front
Cause I got a new tape and it's full of bumps
So roll you raps over they all out-dated
Too $hort, baby, comin' straight x-rated
Oakland funk is all on this tape
You heard seven get ready for eight
That's right, bitch,
$hort said eight of them
Don't belive me?
Start countin' while I name them
Don't stop rappin'
Girl, that's your life
Talkin' about smokin' that glass-pipe
Players? was the wickedest
And that's the realler
But I still came hard on coke-dealers
Raw, uncut & x-rated? 'born to mack? life is...too $hort? is where I first went platinum
$hort dog's in the house? came next
And $horty the pimp? makes seven, bitch...

And it don't stop to the beat, baby...
Get in where you fit in, bitch!