[Scratches]
Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
I'm only bringin' you the real

Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
Give a shout if you know what I'm talkin' about

[Verse One: Lord Jamar]
Three sixty degrees I stand in the square
Right over left
Preparin' to fight to the death, you could never stifle this
Not even the triflest
N***a on Earth
Could ever fuck with what I spit in a verse
We always hit where it hurts
Underground, so we dig in the dirt
Always gotta put a n***a to work
Is how it seems
It's kinda hard to hear the silent screams
Through the violent things
Turn a deaf ear, your body might get left there (uh)
You better step to the rear
We put it down with Premier, rock mad army gear, you ain't heard us all together in
Several years
It's like a federal crime, you had to settle for rhymes that lacked substance
We got that in abundance
Pro-black and you know that
We stay fat like Joe Crack
Lord Jamar come too far
To ever try and go back
[Scratches]
Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
I'm only bringin' you the real

Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
Give a shout if you know what I'm talkin' about

[Verse Two: Sadat X]
I'm on one ten and Lenox with these Africans overseein' our physical being
And how we doin' it
It only take one bad n***a to ruin it
Pursuin' it and actin' like it can't happen, put you in the chair, to the bookings we go
On the twenty-four hour flow
I run through obstacles
Take off my shackles, proper backin' with the bangers and the rhyme singers
I run with them and others
Rock NY in colours
With the straight brim and the chick who work in the gym
The great Dotty in the C-Town Express
Whoever step to this is gonna have to face stress
Whoever step to this better be at they best
Look at me close, I'm the perfect host, you standin' too close, so back up
You should never try to act up
The Wild Cowboy still got the style, boy
One of a kind, I throw a hell of a line
[Scratches]
Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
I'm only bringin' you the real

Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
Give a shout if you know what I'm talkin' about

[Verse Three: Grand Puba]
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah
My man Primo hit me off with the plural
Zig-Zag-Zig like Zorro now we makin' more bread than Stella Doro
Unsung hero bring more heat than De Niro, never known for spittin' trash shit on the mic, that shit's a zero
Rhyme flow stay off the meter, tight like two-seaters, make y'all get nuts like a cellblock filled with dick beaters, make my approach (uh) then shorty's bagged like coach (Yeah)
Cut on the lights if she ain't a dime then watch me run like a roach
Y'all know my shit be hot they call me Dr. Do-a-lot, now I got seeds so I'm stingy, I keep strings on my Benji's (Uh)
So tree up
N***a, we up
About to re-up
Y'all know the deal, grab this paper, disappear like Copperfield-I need a meal (uh)
Time to eat, spit a flow
Drop the beat, press it up, and hit the street, then it sounds complete
My Nubian ways'll get ass that open for days, make more chips than Frito Lays when I spit the phrase that pays
[Scratches]
Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
I'm only bringin' you the real

Grand Puba
Lord Jamar
Sadat X
Alamo
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs for survival
Give a shout if you know what I'm talkin' about