Yeah, Street Smartz, Stretch Armstrong
97, Fuc That representin BK, QU
One time, check it
Yo, yo
n***as your rhymes be soundin short
I take your whole town to court
Plus my 4-pound support when I hold down the fort
F.T. is a spiritual feeler
Lyrical thriller
My material's iller than the brain of a serial k**er
You get your block slaughtered by the Glock sporter
Quick to f** a cop's daughter
Then drown her in hot water
Illuminatti ain't have nuttin to do with Gotti
Through trees I blew a shotty through the body of Juliany
I wanna bann 'em
Governments I can't stand 'em
I used to catch tambertentials
When I heard a national anthem
F gets hysterically
Thinkin of k**in
But don't got the stability, ability or artillery
Fuc That is a fly name
I can feel a high strain
In my brain I catch live pains to give me migraines
It takes a lot of examination and understandination
Consume much animation is contamination
Yeah, NYC, BK, QU
Uptown, Boogie-Down, Staten-Isle, Strong-Isle
Yo, Yo, Yo
Why always gotta worry about shots fillin me
Cops k**in me, hostility and hammer
The hospital be wooby
These streets is too evil
Tools from more than a few people who shoot needles
Drug abusin in slumbs
Look at Pop Dukes' beautiful sons
Son packin an, usual gun for mutual funds
All I want is monopoly
Cops ain't possibly stoppin me
Properly and n***as is probably thinkin of robbin me
In this jungle it's hard to see these elderly people...