[Verse 1: Knowledge The Pirate]
Take a walk on my side the dark side
Where n***as do walk-by's and drive-by's
On the corner selling bean pies, no bow ties
Mayweather fight, sitting ringside
This is were the k**ers reside
The drug dealers collide, and Martin Luther King's dream died
Son was 15 and copped a green five
By 16 moved out the projects to the east side
Moved to that upper east side and leased a high rise
Son was young and fresh with mob ties (ugh)
Velour sweatsuits [?]
Waves spinning like a Beehive (ugh)
Hopped out of the X6 jumped in a G5
To drop off some pies in the projects on the west side
Somewhere's a Jesus knee high
4-5 stuffed in his Levi's no evidence from CSI
Investigated by homicide (ugh)
Wanted by the FBI
For the murder of a CI who never did testify
So it f**ed with their case
When they found him slumped in the trunk, shot in the face
Come talk a walk down these blocks
With coke, dope and weed spots
Guns co*ked ready to squeeze high
Thieves hoppin' out yellin' freeze stop
Gunshots from out the rooftop (ugh)
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoebox
Come take a walk down these blocks
[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
I'm not a trapper i'm a slinger
Sapphire in the finger, crib in Antigua
My triggerman wears cheetah
Sicilian, not a square like a square pizza
My wrist glare i'm a rare creature
Dip the police, tear a sneaker
My n***as hold heat like a fever
From here it's all downhill like a skier
Line the whips up, talking to Siri in the 8 series
With Katie and her fake titties
Sippin' Remy on the rocks
Monclaire when the airs chilly
From playing willy got jammed up in Philly
Split em' open like a filling, feel the fury
They find you in a trunk in Missouri, all smelly
Solicitor of flesh, ridiculous s**
A heavy pistol in the Mitchell & Ness
Spit the best [?]
Triple X suplex, off the roof
Mama i'm a juice head
The coups' red
The crew still move from my tool shed
This truth not bootleg
The deuce-deuce in the boot by the leg
Fly the shoe-head spread
Guns WonderBread, it's under the bed
Plus a couple in the Dufflebag
Take a better look, i'm peddling cook
Fiends shooting Heroin in the foot
Still play it by the book
The grey tops bottled up
The hood swallows it up, what the f**?