On a park bench on 12th street, my whole crew's famous, you try bust your gat and keep it rel but you nameless
Life is a gamble, we scramble for money,I might crack a smile, but ain't a damn thing funny.
Take these words home and think it through;Or the next rhyme I write might be about you.
There's a war going on outside no man is safe from.You can run but you can't hide forever.
Your crew is featherweight, my gunshots will make you levitate 
When the slugs penetrate, you feel a burning sensation,Gettin closer to God in a tight situation.
Your simple words just don't move me ... You're minor, we major.
You all up in the game and don't deserve to be a player.
Havin' cash is highly addictive, especially when you're used to havin' money to live with.
For all of those who wanna profile and poseRock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone.
These ante meridiem cats, insomniacs ... Four in the mornin' we throwin back some Cognac juice.
