[Intro]
"We got plenty of money tucked away. Why not invest it? What is the fucking problem? I’ll put the party behind you, and I got friends in high places"
"I’m not interested in your friends in high places and I don’t trust politicians"
"Well that’s because you still probably think like some schmuck from the streets. I am talking about real money."
"This is real money to me. It’s a lot of money. You want any of it?"
"Carry that stink of the streets with you the rest of your life."
"I like the stink of the streets. It makes me feel good. I like to smell it, it opens up my lungs, and it gives me a hard on."

Diabolic
Block McCloud
Brooklyn Academy
Got a Stronghold on the game
Poison Pen, what up?
C’mon

[Verse 1:]
I never gave a fuck whether or not I released a record
My first priority is what weapon I’d leave you beat to death with
So if I don’t seem collected, it’s cause I need your necklace
I’d sell it cheap and get chips so I can eat some breakfast
Hungry, creeping, reckless when you least expect it
It’s part of life, deep embedded, the streets accept it
It’s the part of me connected to the part police arrested
Hands cuffed, getting snuffed by three detectives
I was pre-selected at birth to be the next shit
Take what I’ve earned being skeptic and reinvest it
The Block pays the price, his watch, days and nights
So I’ma raise hell ’til God prays the Christ
You’re not made to like, learn and paps raised you right
When you’re stopped raise your right, spit in the cops face and fight
But paps raised the type swingin’ an ox blade to slice
‘Til your motha screaming ‘Doc save his life!’
Got love and anger, we not thug or gangsta
But that don’t mean I won’t pop slugs and shank ya
I earned a rep, paid dues, and deserve respect
Fuck life, life’s a bitch, so I flirt with death
Burn incense in the right lane swerving left
Over the edge thinking it’s not worth the stress
What am I supposed to do, is what we going through
Went from hand skills to stand still and nice knowing you
[Hook: Block McCloud & Poison Pen]
Y’all don’t know what I’ve gone thru (Not at all)
And you don’t really want to (Diabolic pop it off)
Cause if I put it on you (Yeeah)
That’s my word y’all be gone too (Yeeah, Yeeah)
[2X]

[Verse 2:]
I had a hell of a time growing up excelling in crime
Going to Folton coppin’ nicks to sell ‘em as dimes
Days were spent helping the grind and staying bent
Paper came and went, life stopped making sense
My friends I watched them change, they’re not the same
Cops just came, they tried snitching, dropping names
Their Glocks are aimed to rob your watch and chain
Word’s on the street so listen, the Block explains
Detained by some cops in the back of a drop
G packs in my sock on the way back from the spot
Bailed out the jail house, not giving a fuck
But I don’t need some P.O. makin’ me piss in a cup
By first impression, you’d think I’d learned my lesson
Only lesson I learned was stashing the work I’m getting
Redefined world is yours, the streets is mine
So I’ma be deceased in time to reach my prime
Keep in mind, my life’s mad at me and stressed
Killing me slowly, the only guarantee is death
The games I play got me thinking the same today
‘Bout to aim and spray while drinking the pain away
In love with pressure, under too much to measure
Running pockets for two pennies to rub together
It’s in my blood forever, a permanent part of me
What I’ve been through continues, maybe you’ll start to see
[Hook]