When the blunts are sparked, and the Arch of the Lou is grand,
And the thugs up above have their Heinekens in hand,
There's an iced-out thug--white du rag under his cap--
And young dirties come for this tight megarapper's rap.

(Chorus)
They can't defeat.
They can't defeat.
Me and you rendezvous
With the thug that they just can't defeat.
Oooh, can't defeat.
Oooh, can't defeat.
Me and you rendezvous
With the thug that they just can't defeat.

From the Frisco Bay to the hills of New Hampshire,
You hear the funk of "Pimp Juice" and the beat of "Hot in Herre".
In this weed-filled club, me and Nelly will smoke all night,
Then I can f**k my wife beneath the pulse of a neon light.

(Chorus)

There's a midnight smell of Cristal
And the weed from a Phillies blunt.
There's the 'Tics and the DJ pumping--
Lord have mercy, let's get it crunk...

Let's get it crunk!

(Chorus)

Let's get it crunk...
Let's get it crunk...
He's the thug that they just can't defeat.
Let's get it crunk...
Let's get it crunk...
He's the thug that they just can't defeat.
Let's get it crunk...
Let's get it crunk...
He's the thug that they just can't defeat.