They can't fuck with us n***a
Drewski!
Ridin on these n***as, they already know what it is and what we about
What we about n***a?!
Cipha Sounds what's up n***a, yeah

[Verse 1: Maino]
Regardless the rain or snow, sleet or hail
I kick street tales
Meet the devil when I see hell
And by a state[?]
Pullin your fate in the palm of my hands
Blow you away if you ain't part of the fam
The realest n***a in the game
Tattoos cover my pain
Eyes closed still holdin my aim
Sweatsuit, gold rolly and chain
Dope dealer shit
Black fist, on him[?] Hussein
That's killer shit
Street n***a, speak for the crooks
Give me feminine looks
Cocksucka I'm the king of the brook[?]
Dress like I'm in a video--Pop!--
Fuck the whole radio--Pop!--
Fuck these other n***as that they ride for the city though
[Verse 2: Bodega Bamz]
Henny, white, no ice
Eat only five-star caviar
No jobs given
In the ride an Apple Macintosh
Tay[?] connection
Second-guessing get your melon caved in
Then we celebratin
Hit your shorty while he level playin[?]
Do it for the streets n***a
Do it for the tweets
I'm a corner-store n***a
I just rap off[?] to beef
Raise the hurt, leave em double dead
I'm a bubble head
I never listen to nothin my mother said
Poppy like Camacho
Boxin, duckin vanachos[?]
Watch[?] me call me guapo
Pockets fatter than sauco[?]
The weed: color purple
Beat the pussy like Harpo
Deadly with the manos
I'll give you all a pistaco[?]

[Verse 3: Chinx]
Fo-wheel drive with the piece on me
Coke boys got in lots with the streets homie
They frontin live with a weak omen
Whole chicken broke down, move that less than a week homie
Courtside seats bought my own whistle
Three-quarter mink, bad to the bone gristle
When your team up, n***as wanna ball with you
No hammer but I bet you got them hoes with you
Bald-head no lockout, go hard no cop out
Just watch your back then jump out
Boys gon hop out
High-school dropout, figured how to get it on the stove
Pull up to my old school with the drop out
[Verse 4: Troy Ave]
Dope boy swag to the max
Troy Ave mofucka and I'm dealin with facts
Not made[?] for TV, but I'm on TV
J-Ro[?] the deep[?], mofucka you see me
Self-made, self-paid, that's boss
Twitter DM's from the boy Rick Ross
No contract but I deal
Cocaine, still shit real, I am ill
Count on my Bendo's[?]
Got it off lend though
New York City
To[?] the big homies my hand do[?]
Adidas deal, I have never been checked
Show me my respect or get shown Wally[?] wet[?] motherfuckers

[Verse 5 Mack Wilds]
Yeah, it's Mack
There ain't a n***a that you know more thorough than this
It's a shame, cuz a singer killin' her more than ya bitch
Bust off and let the hot barrel sit on her lips, heh
And that's just me up on some ignorant shit
I got a couple motherfuckers gettin rich as a bitch
As I put my city back with the music and shit
Guess I'm the
Most imitated
Grammy-nominated
Hotel accommodated
Cheerleader prom dated
I put my city on my back, I'm never overrated
The young Samo, loading up all his ammo
Vandalize every time Cipha put me on fuckin wax
Catchin bodies, TV now on the fuckin track
[Verse 6: City Boy Dee]
Ayo, a few ways out of the hood
I think about it while I'm ravelin 'woods
The haze round, but I'd rather the kush
I get it soft, I was grabbin the cook
Fresh off the block to this rap
That's a real good look
And I just had a brand new kid
I need money for some diapers and a brand new crib
Being broke, this shit hurt like a brand new bid
That's why I cut the dope twice and I'm still in the biz, n***a, uh
Eything; real shit
Fuckin with the boy for
Real flint[?], keep my circle tight
Cuz they'll swell[?] quick
N***as stylin
Guns on us be wilin
Resorts in the island
The belts is Italian