{Narrator: This is the skyline of New York City as seen from Brooklyn And this is a part of Brooklyn that few people see anymore A battleground for the police and young street criminals} {Hood: If I’m gonna die you know, better it happen now than later} Both feet on the gas, nothing on the brake Cuffin’ on an eight Cupboard bare, but I swear tonight gonna be something on the plate Director in this movie, I cast iron Ride with pride, like the last lion Put it bluntly, you hunt me, be your ass dying I get love, now I need that shit cash buying I learned to laugh always mask crying Not get it done young, then you’re past trying (that’s all I did was try) Feast to famine in the streets with a cannon Peace to my mans deceased - I’m still standing I ran in, your boys are sweeter than tamarind What we push is strong, like jaws of Samson Pitching from Yankee Stadium to yards in Camden I son ya’ll niggas, I’m a universe {nobody does a fucking thing until I do so} I’m The Wolf, don’t make a move unless I do it first You might hear better, but there’s no truer verse I’m one with the gutter, I’m too immersed Struggle’s what I’m quoting, and hoping I’m through the worst My last dice game, I was up a grand Shot sound, gave my man a pound, I ain’t touch his hand {we find him, and we kill him} Every now and then my cousin let me pump a gram My real family got me, I ain’t need Uncle Sam I celebrate my blessings Can’t catch this live, then tape the sessions I’m from where a eighth’s a great investment Get that statement you know my place was desperate (the fucking hood, respect) “Get money” was the basic testament Pull heat on niggas you pop ‘em, even they suggest it (better shoot me nigga) In King’s County where the queen never faked the jack The MAC 10 and a nine, and my ace is strapped I pull it out, I gotta shoot If you got heart, then follow suit Through me the lost art’s preserved To make my point use the harshest words Rocky was the route I’m choosing You was in the house a hundred doubts I’m proving Confident no doubt solution This might be God speaking, it’s just my mouth is moving (I’m a vessel man) A spoken memorial to all my losses Peace to those never found and those in coffins For cheap grains and fruits that’s stale My niggas in the street fought tooth and nail A few hammers, no proof of sale Do your time, never boof the scale Sleep and die, learned that before Elm Street I’m hard to stick like a nigga that sell heat I’m from the grittiest dungeons Used to count pennies, now it’s fifties and hundreds I’m from the grittiest dungeons Used to count pennies, now it’s fifties and hundreds To my niggas in Brownsville Niggas in East New York, Bed Stuy Them Harlem niggas man Know what I’m saying, them South Jamaica niggas Them South Bronx niggas Them Delita Ward[?] niggas, for everybody man There’s a lot of niggas in Chile I know, know what I’m saying? Everybody all over the fucking world man If you’re a live nigga, it’s just your music, it’s for you I know you feel it Fuck that sucker shit Word, from the grittiest dungeons We’re from the grittiest dungeons {Ka will not feel pain in quite the same way, hardship in battle...}