[Verse 1 - Vinnie Paz:]
I run with Puerto Rocs, Morenos, Costa Ricans, and some Guidos
My bullets quick and fly around your head like they’re mosquitoes
The mark they leave inside your body smaller than a needle
The fiends here get their rock n' roll like they’re the Beatles
I’m from Philly and the killers on the block is my people
And that’s regardless of the fact they’re moving rock and diesel
It ain’t nothing for me to bust a fucking shot at people
For me to run up on your spot and bust a Glock at people
And my fam, they’re waiting patiently to clap a round
My hands are strong enough to spin the earth and crack the ground
My crib like a gun store, Vinnie keep the heaters
And fucking with me only gets you close to meeting Jesus
The man that tried to battle Pazienza, he’s in pieces
That goes for anybody else that Vinnie P. competes with
I’ll die for any of my cousins that I run the streets with
And for the motherfuckers that I share the m-i-c with