[Intro: Solomon Childs]
Yeah... Staten Island... the triz-oops
S. Childs! You know? That's right
Not for you f*ggot motherf**ers, anyway
You heard me? f** ya'll, that's right
Not too much to live for, n***a
Yeah, get in they a**, son!
[Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs]
Never been concerned with names
I ain't try'nna go up in flames
And I ain't try'nna go insane
Now, 'fore you motherf**ers throw my life away
[Solomon Childs]
Welcome to Wild West Brighton, the only borough in New York
k**in' Rasco, I paint a bloodbath like Pica**o
Staten Island G.I., in the p**y, knee high
You'se have now been awakened out the coma
By the son of a wounded soldier
Motherf**ers is dead, smell the aroma
That's federal crime, regulators
Known to spend a pretty penny with the gun dealers
I'll sneak up on your b**h a**, broad day like the k**ers
We get emotional, n***a, don't get scared now, n***a
I'm home now n***a with weight like Bonecrusher
And I Ain't Never Scared, homey, I'll have ya b**h a**
Wheeping and bending down, homey
So dress warm, cause the casket, look like it get lonely
Straight forward, music for thugs, bloods, crips and k**ers
Try'nna reach us on receivers, Nexus, I come equipped with four fifths
That'll give you a seizure, literally, dog, give you a seizure
[Chorus 2X]
[Solomon Childs]
Live amongst snakes and vultures, collateral damage
Desert eagle in the hosters, time to rebuild
With family superstars on FBI's wanted posters
f** a bodyguard, I'm purchasing a pair of twin toasters
And for the record, there's pork in Hostess
With so many trials, I'm try'nna stay focused
N.W.O., f** the world, New World Order
Easy n***a, give me order, worth the blood
Hold it down, twenty four/seven, and listen pa'
Ain't nothing to gain, we got unlimited guns
And just cause I'm a pusher, daddy, ain't nothing stopping my bankfunds
Guerillas with magnums, listen, get a hole in my paper
Or find yourself slumped over, gargling blood like Bill Cosby's son
Nothing to lose, parolee on the run, for sure
Read about it, in the Metro section, all eyes on the prophet
Ya'll n***as better watch the prophet
[Chorus 2X]
[Outro: Solomon Childs]
Yeah, for sure, n***a
Yeah, you heard him, that
It's gonna be a lot of slow singing
The flower bringing, my burglar alarm starts ringing
Motherf**er