Llyod Banks:
America welcome to the land of the brave
America welcome to the land of the slaves
where to do anything for money the consequences is the cage
follow the path of a dummy hop a fence into their grave
you can either live to regret or benefit from your ways
the enemies get what they deserve the innocent get the strays
everything aint all gravy baby n***as are subject to change
and it gotta be the paper cause n***as is acting strange
I wake up to (momma missing? ) head throbbing heart full of rage
Urine dirty from haze as strong as thirty grenades
when it comes to ammunition its thirty thirties and K's
and them treys hold me down like that du-rag that's on your waves
America welcome to the land where they k**
America welcome to the land where they steal
where n***as will call your bluff till you let them know sh** is real
where material sh** will make b**hes head over heals
where drama appeals to most of the kids so they watch
where they shoot at cops and most little n***as don't know they pops
where peer pressure comes on you smoke weed get bent to be cool
where the girls loose there virginity in elementary school
where the ambulances are late club floors get left with stains
over step on sneakers and "n***a what set you claim"
where n***as are ghetto fabulous billings and nice whips
where cops will f** you up with flash lights and night sticks
America welcome to the land where they frame you
America welcome to the land where they hang you
where it doesn't pay to live with out sin or be an angel
and a regular day of just chillen a bullet can rearrange you
where n***as will back stab you the first time they get the chance to
the envious ways of a coward will do nothing but amp you
I'm from South Side Jamaica where comics and stars are born
where you can wake up in the morning and your brand new car is gone
where n***as that you grew up with is speeding and smoking crack
play Russian roulette with their dreams and there is no way to get them back
where the hood rats will surround you, the constant trade on the stack
its kind of hard to keep your cool when there is constant hate on your back
Llyod Banks: (Chorus)
New York City that's where I stay
where everyday is foul play
we got ours so you should have yours
cause it'll be no warnings when its time to go to war
New York City that's where I'm from
I got my vest, I got my gun
And you should run if you aint got one
cause it'll be no warnings for them n***as, wars come
Tony Yayo:
A yo Banks, let me shine