| It’s the capital C, little A-N-I, capital B, U-S, whattup G |
| Even from a distance I got a front row seat |
| And I’m watchin what y’all don’t see |
| Listen up kids |
| Your favorite artists are mafia bosses |
| From the streets to the corporate office of they lawyers |
| Niggaz got money and then they got hungry |
| Got friends in powerful places just like Bugsy, but more ugly |
| It’s gon' get bloody, niggaz don’t know |
| the side of the street shit the TV don’t show |
| Tour buses full of weed and coke, gettin a hundred G’s a show |
| These niggaz got cheese to blow |
| On the phone, governor hits, gotta hide they mothers and kids |
| Talkin in code, watchin out for the feds |
| Every day they address change |
| Hoppin out of bombproof automobiles, from real jet planes |
| The mainstream think they just rappin |
| They don’t have the eyes or ears to see or hear what’s happenin |
| I’m from an island where the skinny niggaz ride |
| It’s an island where the real skinny niggaz die |
| Ask my nigga Spragga Benz, he’ll tell you why |
| We represent Jamaican pride |
| It’s a war bein fought on all levels, let me paint the picture |
| It’s the straights against the gays, but the gays is richer |
| There’s a lot of sexy beasts in the system that like men more than women |
| Cause they spent so much time in the prison |
| I can tell you what it is and what it isn’t, this shit is subliminal |
| Can’t see it without the criminal vision |
| Motherfuckers is livin a life nobody ain’t filmin |
| Thug TV, and it ain’t for children |
| Guns, sex, money and drugs, fuck your feelings |
| Feds puttin smoke detectors with bugs in ceilings |
| Niggaz hirin they own law enforcement |
| Goin to court bent, dollars be talkin, drop the charges |
| Don’t forget, that nigga Shyne comin home soon |
| And I +KNOW+ he hungry, I wonder what he gon' do |
| If you can hear me cousin, I got my money on you |
| What niggaz sayin in the streets is true, see you soon |
| We can do somethin with Spragga B or Elephant Man |
| When you come home, you see my shit is militant man |
| I just came back from Belize, my uncle got married |
| to this drug lord’s niece, and bought a 36 karat marquis |
| I’ll holla at you, we’ll discuss the plan |
| I’m a soldier but I squeeze with a delicate hand |
| The 50 cal cost fifteen thou' |
| And I ain’t stupid enough to say I got one, you figure it out |
| It’s a lot of nosy niggaz around |
| That’s why I moved the fuck out of New York to a less busier town |
| With a 9 to 5, I still experience life on the finer side |
| Hollerin ride or die |
| Man of flesh with the eyes of God |
| A concrete bunker protects my mind so I cry inside |
| While I watch how the media designed the lies |
| But real niggaz see eye to eye |
| While fake niggaz run around lookin for another ride to buy |
| With they lawyers co-signin the crime, I rhyme like |
| there’s a hundred million dollars on the line every time |
| I’m ready to place a bet any time |
| Empty a whole nine into any shield you hide behind |
| to breach your contract with Father Time |
| Just an old problem in the modern world, you see how these niggaz |
| is thorough from borough to borough, I’ll give you referrals |
| Send the last digit on a bullet through a barrel |
| My hundred pound rucksack full of ammo and army apparel |
| If a nigga REALLY wanna battle |