hook:
what up! what up! to my niggaz over there/
what up! what up! yea i dont think you wanna stare/
what up! what up! if you wanna shoot the fair/
what up! what up! yea nigga meet me in the square/
what up! what up! to my niggaz over here
what up! what up! yea kid you better say a prayer/
what up! what up! oh you claim that you aint scared/
what up! what up! yea nigga meet me in the square/

verse1: (son-ray)
what up! what up! nah i aint telling you hi/
everything is all real i aint telling a lie/
if you prepared and you willing to die/
then step in the square i'm over here nigga still in the stuy/
wouldn't bother with a prayer... you could give it a try/
but if god really cared then he would of arrived/
now the fear of him gone got him starting to cry/
so now the tears that have formed slowly fill up his eyes/
but fuck that be careful how you talk to ray/
usually gon' be the loser that'll often say/
you should be the bigger man and just walk away/
but i feel bigger when the bigger man walk away/
I'm on my hood shit hoodies and caps on/
got him on some shook shit talking like cam'ron/
repeating himself, i told him to shut up shut up/
with my hat back, arms crossed looking at him like.../


Hook:
what up! what up! to my niggaz over there/
what up! what up! yea i dont think you wanna stare/
what up! what up! if you wanna shoot the fair/
what up! what up! yea nigga meet me in the square/
what up! what up! to my niggaz over here
what up! what up! yea kid you better say a prayer/
what up! what up! oh you claim that you aint scared/
what up! what up! yea nigga meet me in the square/

verse2: (Robbie Shades)
Hold up Youngin pump ya breaks/
before i introduce my timberlands to ya face/
no broadway show but that ass gets stomped/
simon says get the fuck up like pharoah monche/
i aint done yet pick him up bring up dead/
send the paramedics the medic bring the ems/
see what you get playing that role running ya yapped/
fuck ipod i rob got a kicking ass app/
nip tuck, my razor cut ya face son/
i aint from the jersey shore but you dont want no situation/
guns come out like ricky martin out the closet/
locked flow ready to go and you the target/
i see you in icu sucker/
you won't see the next friday like chris tucker/
i'm on that brooklyn bullshit come get flipped/
korna res robbie shades google me bitch/


verse 3 (son-ray)

so throw ya hands, shoot the five, or throw ya dukes/
if you a man and you live aint no excuse/
i dont care about the guns nobody saw you shoot/
meet me in the square not 14th or forty deuce/
so we clear man i'm talking about the ring/
i aint worried about these lames they aint talking about a thing/
they just tend to front cuz aint nothing what it seems/
when heads bump they left slumped, like puppets without strings/
but it aint a thing for ray he stay clever/
with better preparation then the 8th letter/
i can't chill cuz fake niggaz get ray fedup/
plus my handskills is way better then mayweather's/
so if you want it you'll get what you ask for/
a fragile nigga I'm breaking ya glass jaw/
so one hit and you'll be left in the air/
SonRay and Robbie Shades nigga step n the square/

Hook:
what up! what up! to my niggaz over there/
what up! what up! yea i dont think you wanna stare/
what up! what up! if you wanna shoot the fair/
what up! what up! yea nigga meet me in the square/
what up! what up! to my niggaz over here
what up! what up! yea kid you better say a prayer/
what up! what up! oh you claim that you aint scared/
what up! what up! yea nigga meet me in the square/