[Intro - Joe Budden - talking]
  Let me just make this statement
  Loud and clear - Jersey's here
  Hey, Ja, Joey
  Triangle Offense do it like ... (whoa)
  ("what" - repeated in background)
  (*female voice: "yeah" - repeated*)
  
  [Verse 1 - Fabolous]
  Maybe it's the dipped Jesuses
  The twin Jesuses with diamonds in them, that's clear they break gooses
  Maybe cause I'm in they roofless or the Hypno I put in they juices
  I'm the "Joe Millionaire" of rap and one of these chicks
  is gonna get picked and gonna get dicked
  I'm all that and then some, y'all cats have been bums
  That's pocket change, you call that an income?
  Tell the way I walk that I'm doin my thing (uh huh)
  A lot a niggaz talk but ain't doin a thing (uh uh)
  Whatever come in the fall, I do in the spring
  See I told y'all I'm doin my thing
  And I'm winnin by a landslide, damn right
  Don't you see the way they point at this man's ride
  Now, look at here, I took it there
  I'ma make this statement loud and clear - Brooklyn's here
  
  [Chorus - Joe Budden] (*female voice - repeats "yeah" in background of Chorus*]
  That fire, problems in the club, reach for that snub
  Look dog it's on fire, that's when you turn it up
  You wanna burn it up, come deal with them riders
  Small one on my hip, when you hear the clip
  You got to see fire, when it all hits the wire
  We gonna light it on fire
  
  [Break - Joe Budden]
  We gonna do it like
  We gonna do it like
  (We gonna light it on fire)
  Triangle Offense daddy
  Cain (we gonna light it on fire)
  I know you got somethin more
  (*"yeah" - repeated*)
  Don't even hold back
  Woo, we gonna do it like
  Yeah get 'em
  Uh, uh, uh
  
  [Verse 2 - Paul Cain]
  Here with the white and the Canary cross (yeah)
  Bracelets to match, diamonds clear of floss
  Convertible hard top in a Carrera Porsche (Cain)
  I'm young but I'm damn near a boss
  And of course your boy ride with a thing in the stash box
  Quick to hit the button, even quicker to blast shots
  Nobody gonna eat, 'less we see chips
  This not even funny, not the way we freak chicks
  My waiters make ladies see sick
  I'm "So So Def" like a J.D. remix
  I got enough whips to keep switchin up flavors
  Drafted outta high school, straight into the majors
  These haters, fake smiles, but they hardly like me
  They hate to see me in a party icy
  Clean white T, sippin on Bacardi lightly
  Suade low cut Force, one caramel nightly
  
  [Chorus] (*female voice - "yeah" repeated through Chorus and into Break*)
  
  [Break - Joe Budden]
  We gonna light it on fire
  Yeah, whoa
  
  [Verse 3 - Joe Budden]
  I got a ear for your amp it up with Jersey's answer
  The chancellor standin up for ten minutes man
  It's tough plan, plan that's what the camma does
  And Jam's son it's the new King, done with the cameras
  You pop lip like you got shit
  That's a minor congestion you not sick
  Now you wanna call names like Tupac did
  Home boy here's a few glock clips
  Still Junior like Lou Gossett
  Joey right back on
  overcharge New York to cut the lights back on
  Peform Bloomberg to come get me all
  I send the gools that make the bad things happen in city hall
  All, K's spray cats, we don't play that
  She allowed to sway why don't use say that (yeah)
  Can't stop, won't stop, shots heard, one shot, gun shot
  make your lungs stop, breathe easy
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Break - Joe Budden] - w/ ad libs
  We gonna light it on fire
  We gonna light it on fire
  (female voice - "yeah" - repeated)
  We gonna light it on fire
  We gonna light it on fire
  
  ("woop, woop, woop, woo" & "yeah" - repeated until end)