Fall Out Boy — This Aint a Scene Its an Arms Race 2007 VMA Remix

[Intro: Travie McCoy] Travie! (Uh-oh) Pete, thought I told you What up, Hemmy? I see you! [Verse 1: McCoy] I've had the world at arm's length from the get-go This ain't an arms race, it's Apocalypto The industry's a target, I suggest these labels get low On top of that, this track is cracked like burnt Brillo (damn) Consider me the beast of East Eleventh VIP, all day, AK47 If words is weapons, then get to steppin' My arsenal's enough to send Hell's Angels to Heaven I'm cool as the Fonz, and deadly as Charles Bronson I'm Gonzo, you can call me Travie S. Thompson Go 'head, and you can choose a similar path But don't gas yourself up like Sylvia Plath, jeez Watch Travie take the title with ease You want a verse, please, I wouldn't bless you if you sneezed (Achoo!) Pardon me, I'm allergic to bullshit Got a God complex with a full clip, pow! [Verse 2: Tyga] The leader, man; Tyga-man make you leave your man Ladies man take your mate Literally, this song got me checking out my range With no piff involved, my swag flyer than a plane With the unruly attitude; ignorant, arrogant dude Excuse me, I'm only seventeen (that's my age) "You're excused, I like your honesty, honestly You're more mature than the average teen" (oh, shah) "And uh, your label family? You must have a team" (yeah) Decaydance, preferably, that'll be next for me (hint-hint) The rest'll be history, plat-i-um until they stop listening Then your baby's back like ribs (ribs) I know you've been missing me, I almost forgot to mention it Ever heard a sound like this? (wow!) [Pre-Chorus: Patrick Stump] This ain't a scene, it's god-damn arms race! This ain't a scene, it's god-damn arms race! This ain't a scene, it's god-damn arms race! I'm not a shoulder to cry on, but I digress [Chorus: Stump] I’m a leading man And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate I’m a leading man And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate [Verse 3: Kanye West] Now I don't know what the hell this song is talkin' bout Do you? She said "Yeah, I been spendin' all day tryna figure that out" You too? The arms race made 'em raise they arm And race straight to the top; Who knew? (who knew?) Right now they got that number one spot Do you want that? (want that?) Me too One thing I gotta call out, boy, take a look at Fall Out Boy Since they ain't black, when they get money they don't ball out, boy They just buy tight jeans till their nuts hang all out, boy They figure 'Ye dress tight so we gonna dress tighter He dress white so we gone dress whiter So in spite of anything you might've Seen or heard, this scene occurred, word [Chorus: Stump] I’m a leading man (I'm a leading man) And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate I’m a leading man And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate [Verse 4: Paul Wall & Skinhead Rob] Ha, come on, expensive taste, we up in a arms race Big money, big crib, big Cadillac (sho') Big daddy, boy, I cop big dro sacks (that's right) Paper stack, big ring, big bling-bling (c'mon) Try to take big chain, big bang-bang (pow!) I'm going (whoa), I'm going (whoa), I'm motherfucking gone Ain't no signs that I'm slowing though I'm knowing that I'm wrong Bring it on, out to get it, I need cash by the stacks I need a new pair of Stacys and a dash for the 'Lac, jack Ha, hear that? Top back [?] grill (grill) Coming down on the spiderweb chrome wheels (trill) First place in the stunting race, top notch (ha) Paint drip-drop, flip-flop, strapped with a Glock Live every day like it's my last one; maybe it is And ain't no morrows in my world of sorrow; maybe in his I break ribs, break laws, break jaws at most I still stick to the coast, hold up and reload OH! [Verse 5: Lupe Fiasco] There's an arms race, like I'm runnin' on my hands A dance marathon on my napalms, and Drop mine's first so that they bombs can't And Glocks, lasers, missiles, beat rocks, paper, scissors I built mine's big, better build yours bigger Built mine's quick so I could kill yours quicker The number one supplier, the world's largest equipper The second smallest dier, best non-coexister I pledge allegiance to gasoline and bulletproof limousines And leans on the property of the poor And every night, I pray to the Lords Of War Every man and mac eleven That all good child rebel soldiers go to AK-47 heaven And a landmine in every playground that they step in And you took the footage from the camera on the tips Of our bullets, and record like former Darfur [push it] [Chorus: Stump] I’m a leading man And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate I’m a leading man And the lies I weave are oh-so intricate, Oh-so intricate [Verse 6: Lil Wayne] Yeah, it's Weezy, baby! I am your arms dealer, I'm more like an armed dealer Liter-rally, really, I don't get this song neither But I'mma figure it out like a palm reader And, since I be on TV, I turn it on to see me! Hey, I'm so cool, even I wanna be me That was totally off the subject But for me, every song is like pussy so fuck it Like Fresh, you dug it (you dug it, you dug it)