[Intro: sample from the TV show "The Wire"]
We gotta think about what we got in this game for, man. Huh? Was it the rep? Was it so our names could ring out on some fucking ghetto street corner, man?

[Verse 1: A.G.]
We bang for the corners, bang for the streets
Jail n***as love us for the story that we tellin'
Convicted felon, few misdemeanors
Screaming for the n***as in the bleachers
Paid on Friday, broke on Monday
All that really matter, he was hung over Sunday
Spit it for my lil n***a sitting on the step
Black & Mild or the Dutch in his left
Henny in his right, fire on his waist
Running from parole, with an open case
These ghetto girls do something to me
It's like Cupid just threw something through me
It's a wrap, ask Kool G
Especially when I say what I write on the loose-leaf
Kids in the class, stuck in the zone
Ain't really concerned with tryna be known
Staying outta trouble, live where I live
Hear all the sirens, that's where he call home
For hip-hop heads that love it cuz it's real
No matter where they from, understand how we feel
Pump us in a iPod, pump us in a Jeep
In tune with the words, in tune with the beats
On the grind make room for the feast
And one thing we ain't is in tune with the beast

[Hook: A.G.]
We bang for the streets, we bang for the corners
Do it for the hip-hop heads that support us
Do it for the chicks that love us for the rawness
He do it with an MP, I do it with a cordless

[Intro sample again]

[Verse 2: A.G.]
We bang for the corners, bang for the streets
Pioneers love us for the torch that we carry
Fire burn in my mind like Carrie
I write it then I light it
See I don't really care if you can't see my view
It's only for a few
Only for the ones that knew
The art, the culture, the sound, the love
From then on it grew
Bang for the bodies that's left on the block
The hood is a cemetery, killings don't stop
N***as on the corner like they trading off stocks
The climate, the market is hot, hot, hot
Yeah I think not
Used to go to parties that ended in shots
Lost in translation, music for my nation
And I don't care about a radio station
The South Bronx, right where it ain't safe at
Better learn the game, ain't no take-backs
I make the music for the place I was raised at
We bang, bang, shots n***a take that
Show and A, related to the struggle
Do it for the boosters, do it for the hustle
Put it in your iPod, put it in your Jeep
In tune with the words, in tune with the beats