[Intro: DJ KaySlay]
It's that street n***a shit!!!
Smitty!!! Jae Millz!!! Mike Beck!!! Kayslay!!! Greg Street!!!
Y'all know what the fuck it is!!! Let's! Go!

[Verse 1: Smitty]
This is nothin new to me, life ain't what it used to be
Now it's all gun cocked, scared a n***a truthfully
Cock, black, assault, fast
Got, cash, cop, crash
And y'all full of shit keep the heart full of clips
Yo' pot his pot keep the spot full of bricks
No fame no game I pull a bitch
New whip blue six same color crip
And y'all lame n***as hear we on some other shit
Off white soft white as long as it's butter shit
Burn, yay, you earn, you straight
You earn, we take, you hungry, we ate
No stress one sack already done that
Call my weight Jordan (Why) because it come back
Five five for the ounce spit one stack
Cock that drop that n***a that's a comeback
Need a new hustle already done rap
Tired of the same cash so I called Dame Dash
My CD, is real, it's Smitty and Millz
Live from the ghetto why I never let go
[Verse 2: Jae Millz] (DJ KaySlay)
Papa wasn't never here O.G.'s made me grown
Mama let her baby roam and now baby holdin chrome
It don't matter who you name he can't flow like me
I petty might be aight yeah but he ain't dope as me
If you been around fam I know you notice me
Yes! One hand in the air one on the chest
It's Mr. wanna what some call me one of the best
And if they don't, it must be cause they want it to deaf
Everybody talk bullets to you give it one of them fresh
One wrong punchline will get you one through ya vest
And you ain't gotta be Hines Ward to catch
Somethin from thirty yards out fuck what ya bars 'bout
We shootin n***as like Reggie Miller did
Nah I ain't Scarface homey I'm worst, I'll kill your kids
Who doubtin me I'll do your newborn like Mike did his lil' ass from the balcony
Corny industry n***as hatin and reroutin me
But I'm a wolverine I was raised where the moutains be
Slept in the dungeon the trainin be the same
Sylvestor Stallone did before he fought Dolph Lundred
N***a yous a pumpkin Smitty spark the lama
And n***a fuck the frontin till the cats believe that I'm a be the (Street niggga!!!)

[Verse 3: Mike Beck] (DJ KaySlay)
The hood is full of roaches the crib is so full of roaches
My livin was so atrocious so flippin we came devoted
Ask about the wrist game whip game
How I flip change make it to diamonds that glisten
I'm the shit man manuer street polluter
Peeps is beast just to eat they'll shoot ya
Politics as usual it's usual crucial
Shoot through your Red Monkey's let the shells seduce ya
I'm a, predicate cutter, better be butter
If I touch it I must get cash in a bundance
Stacks, for the hundred, pass smell the blunt scent
Get you in the car in your pockets it's your months rent
In the front big head on the horn
By the time they come check your pulse presume your dead I'm gone
Were probably on another coast new clothes another toast
New hoes with new dough move low right through those
Death points, from the hood to borderline
Take money from the hood and bought the borderline
So much more than rhyme his thoughts borderline
His brawl with this boar listen to 'em tell 'em I'm a (Street n***a!!!)