time Working all day in my Daddy's garage Driving all night, chasing some mirage Pretty soon little girl, I'm gonna take charge The dogs on main street
Streets I roam, Mama praying like the Vatican My life feels like treading water in the ocean Who's standing in I'm dopes up moving drug trafficking Tell
40 dollar jeans, thousand dollar shades Walk up in the club like a KKK parade. DJ scream my name, bitches turn they head. light sign on my section, i
don't bring us up Actin like you niggaz hard or twistin your fingers up (up) 'Cause you be bluffin in the streets I let the dogs out, then I let the hogs
like Magilla Standing in the window, with a sign, "Yes, I fuck men, though" [Interlude: Ghostface Killah (Sheek Louch)] Aiyo, Sheek (What up, dog?) Stab
like acid reflux Get buried in ya cheap tux' We make it hard for you niggaz to keep up Been through a hundred towns,and runnin', beatin' the streets up Come up
, tuck the heats in you fuckin seats Honeys suckin me, sweets Do a 90 in the jeep Red glorious, might stand victorious A hundred story high in story in Poor men of the street
vapors, more pub than the papers More papers than the press, oh yes I gets paid Common Sense: Yo, I didn't grow up up po po but once you get grown
met a nigga yet I would've made my right Hand, damn, never take a stand Never tell them boys information on your fam Never tell them n-ggas information where you stand
up in skyscrapers And Condominiums over-looking our drug capers New York City, the only way to play is gritty I want cheddar so we can front up in the
to lose I'm destined To hit that road, collect and try to hop up Out of the hood niggas, frown they see me pop up Get locked up and they still with
Yo, yo, yo, I'ma have to stand up Take game, I got grabbed up Asking me questions, interrogating The way the hatin', they just remind me of Satan Keep
love 'Coz soon as shit pop off an' niggas knuckle love Niggas accusin' me of fuckin' 'em up I'm like, "Hold up, ain't they supposed to be dogs?" Part
bus and my head blew up And the sight'll make ya sick Violent j, motherfucker, psychopathic Psychopathic Thought you know bitch The icp is made up of
a voice like thunder, words of wonder All alone standing tall, and suckers roll under Possessed with power, cowards will cower Dogs we devour, hour after
into the street slangin them tapes Shoutout to Double A and the money he makes Esham, my dogs runnin on the east side My street gang's grown, muthafucka
'mma heat the track up If it's a 100 of you demons I suggest you go get back up Load the mac up don't slack up I'mma act up on Any mutha fucka that think
switch up because some niggas stalked you up Or is the fact that they thought you was rollin' with us Left you all draged like two trains crashin' it up