['Gangs of New York' sample]
Anytime that I wish
I could turn it against you
[Fastlife Fox]
Let me take you to my location, where they treat me like Naseem
Coming to America, it's Akim
Fastlife Fox, can't see him even if I had Visine
I stretch a n***a out like widescreen
Me, Myself & Irene, a bullet pistol right out of my jeans
Drive-by, cut off the high beams
Fly by, gun off your fly team
And hit 'em from the Bottom Up, bang bang, shout out to Shyheim
I ain't nothing like the rest of these dudes
I make a call and have seventy goons
One down on 'em, like a robbery, don't mess with me, fool
Who wanna dance, I'mma step on your shoes, you wanna dance?
I do the Gregory Hines and tap on your spine
Push your front to the back of your mind
Cook you up like crack on the grind, so look me up
You can find me in the Yellow Pages, under Staten, it's time
[Shyheim]
I'm straight out of Staten Island, 10304 Richmond County
I smoke that good soury, I be baked like brownies
High like howdy, or a Allen Ive' alley
You be f**ing with that brown weed while my Al's Green
I'm a k**a Bee who k**ed a Bee, I took Rae's sting
I got my own website, I don't need no ning
n***as in jail with no internet still got my link
And the Bottom be popping bottles, we don't cop no drinks
[Castro]
Aiyo, you can get popped through your Sox hat, you melt like hot wax
You can't say sh** when I co*k back
Here we go f*ggots, felt was radioactive
Every hi-tech vehicle, stereo hazard
I bag bad dimes, I go scary ol' fat chicks
One shot through the chest, aerial back flip
Word to the fid-eye, my gun bang like a trid-op
Back baby nid-eye, and swing Glocks baptid-ize
Low's gold BS, so stone cold and fresh
If I blew in the air, I'd make the o-zone connect
Old road to d**h, my soul won't go to rest
Until I k** all my enemies, and smoke all they flesh
[Nizzle]
Growing up in the Staten, ya'll think sh** don't happen?
Thirty years old, tossing them hats, man
Drug money, easy, n***as doing it backwords
Well fronting on my strip, I'll get them smoked like Backwoods
From the 2-4, to the number one kitchen
I'm the man in the porch, still I hold a Mr. Smithen
Westing, homeboy, best to get to stepping
Cuz I don't give a f** about you, or what camp you repping
Chain gang's not to be f**ed with, trust this
Cuz n***as like me, I'm all in, they bluffing
n***as could catch me, posted on the Ave
Pushing the new Jag, blowing on purple gra**
P.O.R.T. Richmond
Home of the greatest, still home of some snitches
I don't give a f**, I got the chrome for them b**hes
One shot deal, blow them bones out them chickens
It's Nizzle