[Featuring: Nut-Rageous, Termanology, Tribeca] [Verse 1:] You have not seen the scenery Don't know what it's like to be with me See the heathens speak easily on easy street Yeah, they living like they villains but our children need a meal On the block clocking but that type of time will k** (Yeah, tell em why you mad homie, tell em how you feel) You bet you right, damn sure I will When I got my deal, life was looking up Now I could give a f** cause them record labels steal Still we struggle to live with my kid to my arms I uplift the strong, the hood on my back, my missus on my lap And still I react, dip and dodging the traps Yes, rap was born where I'm from God praised me as a son so I rep till I'm done [Chorus:] We roll on n***as like a bunch of I'll Greeks With heats and keep these streets hot like we [? ] We born together like some sheiks from the middle east [? ] one nation yelling out f** peace [Verse 2:] Yo, late night bodega run, I ran into my little dun Sitting there looking through the barrel of a devil's gun He talking about a body that he caught and he on the run Out of state trying to get that extra cake major fun Who I am to tell him? I'm a felon Just came home from packing a pack in the back and drug selling Shortie rebelling, man he just like me I remember when I was sixteen hugging the streets I had the OG's trying to screw me, I walked away like f** you I'm nutso and flashed the toolie Half my n***as doing life or smoking boulies Shortie when you're looking at the mirror looking at me But my advice to this little n***a, you gotta take flight Relocate from the hood and start a new life [Chorus] [Verse 3:] I'm sick of liars, sick of b**hes and sick of friends I'm sick of [? ], I'm sick of sitting here like get it in I'm sick of fakers, law makers, and life takers That just throw you away then go and eat pizza Laugh about it, it's getting crowded up in the game Too many bout it bout it but really ain't bout a thing Too many make it rain in their songs but the thing Is in real life you won't see them throwing a thing [? ] rappers with b**h tendencies Been through the seven seas, Jim Beam, Tennessee You call it whiskey, me I call it risky Police frisk me hitting me with the metal things Like it's no rules, hit the ProTools And burn it down with my peeps from the Snowgoons [Chorus]