[Intro: Big Pooh & Big Daddy Kane & Phonte]
I'd like to welcome all of you... Uh huh, yeah...
To the Bull City...
Better known as Durham (uh huh)
Right now we in the heart of it...
Got the Butta Team...
The Butta Team...
Uhh, Little Brother...
9th Wonder, y'all... ...and y'alls truly, BDK style...
...Big Daddy Kane in the house
Feel me out...
[Verse 1: Big Daddy Kane]
Staring in the face of death, and I'm lookin in the mouth
Like, goddamn, I found Brooklyn in the South
Comin up inside the hood is due to curse you
But comin' up inside the hood is universal
The shells from the ratchet, they spit the same
As well when they clap it, they hit the same
The Dutch and the Backwoods get spit the same
You ask me why I'm down here, I'm like, "Shit the same"
Folks be mostly movin' low key
Tryna make the dough be grossly OT
Who surely, be out handlin' shit right
And let off more rounds than a championship fight
Them die against me
And we can take it from NY to NC, it's simply
That anywhere you at you can still be hood
My n***as in the dirty dirty, what's really good?
[Chorus: Big Daddy Kane]
These streets out here take a lot to run
When you claim gangsta, if you're not, you're done
On your grind, can't nobody stop you, son
Lick a shot up in the air (blaow) What block you from?
These streets out here take a lot to run
When you claim gangsta, if you're not, you're done
On your grind, can't nobody stop you, son
Lick a shot up in the air (blaow) What block you from?
[Verse 2: Big Pooh]
Uhh...Durham, NC, the place where I reside at
The Eastside is the place where they ride at
Any vice to get high, well you can buy that
Test them country boys? Wouldn't try that
Cause n***as (n***as) is off the chain right here
Just cause it's the South, don't get the wrong idea
You can get stained like armoires at Ikea
I declare, n***as have the wrong idea
From Eagle Pride to where colors collide
Fayetteville Street fiends brought the cracks for hire
Older folk down here look hard to work sire
Call my n***a Tramp, what's the haps on that?
Is that a bus you get around in, and fours get clapped at?
Go down on Brother Spree where they shakin' like craps
Hustlers reminisce, what's the gods who's back?
"Medicine City," how funny is that?
[Interlude - Phonte, Big Pooh, the Butta Team]
Yellin your name in every hood out there
No you cain't, cause it ain't such a good idea
Little Brother, and we puttin it down tonight
Big Daddy Kane, comin back for the crown tonight
Yellin your name in every hood out there
No you cain't, cause it ain't such a good idea
Dirty Durham, they ain't playin around tonight
The Butta Team, them boys layin it down tonight
[Verse 3: Phonte]
I only been here for six years but the city is in me
I can feel it when I walk or when I whisper somethin'
And every time I spit, I drive you to your death
-tination, like I got a lisp or somethin'
And if your gums get to bumpin', them boys hit the button
For room service to come give you the toast
Dirty Durham - we got n***as with scholarships
And n***as with hollow tips and I know n***as with both
That'll shoot until the block is drama-free
From n***as like you actin up like they Oscar nominees
You might of been in the club and popped that wallet
Hit the gym for a month and maybe got rock solid
But in the Bull City they will send dudes to you
Just to prove to you, you are not that brolic, not
And they ain't askin' for God's permission
They askin' for God's forgiveness for bein' poverty-stricken
Stressed out and scarred from livin', better guard your business
You ain't Ernie Barnes, n***a, stop drawin' attention
It's evident that this is as real as it gets
In the City of Medicine, them Durham n***as is sick!
[Chorus: Big Daddy Kane]
These streets out here take a lot to run
When you claim gangsta, if you're not, you're done
On your grind, can't nobody stop you, son
Lick a shot up in the air (blaow) What block you from?
These streets out here take a lot to run
When you claim gangsta, if you're not, you're done
On your grind, can't nobody stop you, son
Lick a shot up in the air (blaow) What block you from?