[Intro: Termanology]
I'm streetwise, that's what I'm called on the street
"You see I'm streetwise, that's what I'm called on the street"

[Verse 1: Termanology]
What you know about them hard time lunch lines
One time harassing my young slime
The caskets from guns firin'
No happiness sunshine, imagine your mom cryin'
From bullets flying through her blinders
Somehow we blinder than we've ever been
So we settle for getting bent and inhaling that cough medicine
Our lord's generation full of sleep deprivation
Here's the confirmation my conversation's amazing but
Stunted won't get it, knowledge spreaded through the lyrics
If it ain't about a credit or debit it's incoherent
Rappers want to settle for better than less and sell their spirit
Get a song and dance in some funny pants and they go and feel it
Huh, I ain't a killer but I'm gon' at kill it
Never will I be like you funny rappers with semi lyrics
I'm sonning rappers like a foster home
Known to send a block of imposters
Launching through they [?] and across the room
You spreading jewels or you writing trash
Fools get enlightened last
Hope you go to school, get a little class
One of the last to say anything that really matters
Watch out, I heard them ice grills really shatter
It's really sad there's really no more real rappers
Reality been revised by regulated factors
Computer hackers ensues by the government's truths
Digitally enslaving the youth while they take your loot
"I'm streetwise, that's what I'm called on the street"

[Verse 2]
We do crime cause legal money harder to get
In due time we plan to make the offers legit
Get out of debt and still keep the name you respect
Open the office and get involved with authoring checks
That means I write in my rap styles
They bite 'em, get Iraqed
And snuffed 'em, [?] I'ma fight 'em
I'm a street guy, you speak lies you geeks die
Man I'm streetwise, I realize these real lives
They write in they raps, fake stories is packed
With guns and loose cracks but never hustled the pack
I know I see the fakeness when I look inside your retina
Tell your man to jet cause I don't want to kill the messenger
Somebody got to fix rap 'fore they invest in us
We got to get these label's greedy hands out the register
When will it register that rap is on the decline
But me I murder each line so I'ma be fine

[Scratched]
"I'm streetwise, that's what I'm called on the street"