(Lauryn Hill) (Chorus) Zee, got down with Lauryn, long ago (Yeah motherfuckers) Gold status is where we will be (Yeah, yeah), that's where you'll find me Sippin' Martini, my pockets swole Stay Gold (Young Zee) I'll go gold if I just stay true to Newark Get high and dust clicks like embalming fluid My shit is loud when I drop my sound All the angels in the clouds like "turn that shit down" (Lauryn Hill) These dimensions and extensions will secure my future pension When I mention corporate lynchin's like the cowboys did to indians The intentions of the devil is to cause me hypertension So stay gold like Stevie Wonder don't blunder like OJ Simpson (Young Zee) Yeah, Zee need to battle with the older guys 'Cause all you little niggas get pulverized Yeah, I get ill on funky beats like Jalil Yo posse gonna wind up in Beth Israel Bring yo' fleet You'll get stabbed and beat And stomped out in the streets with my football cleats I make a snake talk, bitch say who is it When I climb up her walls just like number 4 lizard What is this trash I hear? Is it Static, like Jeru and Premiere? Your MC style is way too old I unfold pure funk as long as I stay gold (Lauryn) ? hooked up with Fugees way back when And we been down since the beginning Ryhming while not spinning And we're still winning It's outta control Yo' stay gold (Young Zee) I be doing 95s in horizons Flyin, lighting up thai while I'm driving Your company's like who the fuck is Zee Cause I be So So Def like Jermaine Dupree (Yah, Yah) It's pure No Brains funks, so get your cams start recording And +Watch how we do this+ like Montel Jordan (Watch how we dooo thiisssss) I use freestyles when I be high on sabbticals On old school rap, I keep trapped in time capsules Outz motherfuckers, serving niggas like butlers Rolling dutches, going sticking in the Cutlass My shit rocks word to Scott La Rock I smoke opts and drink scotch and send my style through a paradox I'm Outz, who ya? NBC outsidaz, this raps raw, plus there's +Moore+ then Mary Tyler (Young Zee) And all the sell out, fake crews that tote pistols I can diss you and I'm only bugging like whistle You sold your soul for a tootsie roll Now you swole cause your LP didn't even go gold I don't let it get next to me I just hang out with my friend like Extra P (Yeah Roots, DU, Ali ...) (Lauryn) Zee, got down with Fugees, long ago (Yeah motherfuckers) Gold status is where we will be (Yeah, yeah), that's where you'll find me Sippin' Martini, my pockets swole Stay Gold