[Verse 1: Kanye West]
Heavy hitters fo life, heavy hitters fo life.
You rappers think I give a fuck about the way that they spit,
Wanna be on my album but don't want me on they shit,
Everybody thought I was makin' a compilation,
I was really makin' myself they competition.
Fresh off the plane from the All-Star game,
Bone girls on TV so it's All-Star trains,
Just picture, man, no snitchin', man,
Something for the fiends fresh out the kitchen, man!
Last 9/11 I was poor on the ave
Till I pluraled my math,
Now it's Porsche 911 and I'm floorin' the gas,
Gotta lotta problems, money's one that I not have no more.
Uh, well Dame look at how everybody changed,
Tell Jay that I'm 'bout to change the game,
Tell B.I.G. that we about to get paid,
All my niggas about to have it made,
This makes everything else sound played.
Goddamn, Kanye! Kanye! Kanye!
Now hold up,
Ain't nobody messin' with me, dawg.
Now you say it. ‘Ain't nobody messin' with you at all.'
I told dude, «You can't even rap on my interlude!»
Now does that make me as rude as Jude?
When the album comin' out? Man, the peoples is askin'.
Yamamoto Adidas is sick with the fashion,
Y'all already got dough so just spit for the passion,
The way ya rhyme give me Tribe Called Quest‹ flashbacks,
And let's not even bring up the tracks, man,
Nope, nope, let's not do that, man,
You eatin' up the game like Pac-Man,
He got the whole world shakin' just like crack fiends.
[Chorus: Kanye West]
Heavy hitters fo life,
Roc-a-Fella is fo life,
Throw your diamonds up, throw your diamonds up,
Throw your diamonds!
Let the beat ride out for a minute
[Verse 2: GLC]
How many niggas you know that put their life on the line to get signed?
Did a few high crimes, almost had lights out?
After the sunshine you thinkin' it might count.
How could I might doubt? Just look at my account!
I used to work at the mall with nothing at all,
Seein' niggas that ball, that shit was depressin',
Keep my clothes in the cleaners, I ain't with the pressin',
When I copped them pounds it was my best investments.
Dre got shot and that taught me a lesson
For stickin' niggas up and them robbery masses,
Last like Batman minus the tight pants.
Would hit your baby momma but her elbows is ashy,
Four different blues, man, your outfit is clashin',
You ain't got no muscles you weakling bastard.
Man, look at your haircut.
Mm hmm, mm hmm, naw, your hair sucks!
How many niggas you know is really heavy hitters?
'87 go getters, two hoes like John Ritter,
Even did it on his crime picture, and yeah,
And offers to sell and yell, uh!
[Chorus: Kanye West]
Heavy hitters fo life,
Roc-a-Fella is fo life,
Throw your diamonds up, throw your diamonds up,
Throw your diamonds!