[k**ah Priest]
In the streets where there's hustle and crime
Through the shorty stuffing his nine
Fiends scuffing for dimes or crack
We know that we packing the gat
When D's attack, we squeeze those MAC
Ease back, the G's stacks, and weed pack
We take a hit off the piff and reminisce
Ask a question how we exist
Dirt under my nail got a story to tell
See the struggle and the hustle through the smoke of my L
See the young lifers through my blunt fire
Vengeful shorty's loading up shells
The gun will light ya, bullets will bite ya
Come through the hood, we invite ya
Words from the streets, the most prolific writer
When I speak, I know you hear the streets
I know you hear the part of me
I'm knee-deep in the concrete
On my where that block is
When I speak, you can see the part of me
It's so deep in the concrete
Hold tight when the Glocks squeeze
When I speak
[Ras Ka**]
My n***a twist, they use to say he couldn't wait until I snapped
Now when I speak, I snap like Christopher Reeves back
What I put in the rap, I'm entirely that
Rock like Ozzy Osborne biting the head off a bat
Shoot lead off a track, my old sh** is plutonium, n***a
You could be dead off that
Young Don Corleone, get bucks with Ras
So just pull up ya skinny-jeans and tuck ya sack
I rep the West masterfully, f** with that
Can't be done, cause ain't no one
Who could turn the streets black like it ain't no sun
Still on that Dogg Pound sh** cause it ain't no fun
Less the homies get money too
That's why Ras Ka** is Van Gogh
Da Vinci is cousin Blu
He be MF, I stayed low key like the price of coke in Dade County
The Ballerstatus found me
When I speak, I know you hear the streets
I know you hear the part of me
I'm knee-deep in the concrete
On my where that block is
When I speak, you can see the part of me
It's so deep in the concrete
Hold tight when the Glocks squeeze
When I speak