n.y. state of mind

yeah

yeah

ayo

black

it's time

word

it's time

man

yeah

straight out the fuckin' dungeons of rap

where fake niggas don't make it back

i don't know how to start this shit

yo. now

rappers; i monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm i be kickin'

musician

inflictin'

composition

of pain

i'm like scarface sniffin' cocaine

holdin' an m16

see with the pen i'm extreme

now

bullet holes left in my peepholes

i'm suited up in street clothes

hand me a 9 and i'll defeat foes

y'all know my steelo

with or without the airplay

i keep some e&j

sittin' bent up in the stairway

or either on the corner bettin' grants with the cee-lo champs

laughin' at base-heads

tryna sell some broken amps

g-packs get off quick

forever niggas talk shit

reminiscin' about the last time the task force flipped

niggas be runnin' through the block shootin'

time to start the revolution

catch a body

head for houston

once they caught us off-guard

the mac-10 was in the grass

and

i ran like a cheetah

with thoughts of an assassin

picked the mac up

told brothers back up!" -- the mac spit