text: Uhh, check it out, uhh
  I steps in, where the Mos and the hoes at, baby?
  Fuck all that pretty shit
  Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers
  Niggas know the deal
  Niggas know who the Don is
  Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one
  Peep game, uhh, what, what, what
  Out of this world like Mars when I spit these bars
  Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars 
  We built in radars to stay free from the cops
  Crucial choices to make, like, A-C or the drop? 
  Are we gonna stop? Shit, man, if my squad go broke
  Your squad oughta choke, watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke
  Aint no joke, when your ones dont show
  Nigga, I know, might say Been There, Done That like Dre 
  Through hard work, I earn the vault
  Promise God to never look back, or I turn to salt 
  Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings 
  Guess its safe to say a nigga like me got nice things 
  Cant relate to motherfuckers who aint go no cake 
  When you all fucked up and cant get no break 
  When your fake-ass friends dont help you out when you need it
  Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it 
  Fuck that, get your own, nigga, dont ask me for shit
  Thats what I did, now they all asking for hits 
  Nigga, its on for the simple fact I let it be known
  We still fly, but separately, cause now I charter my own 
  Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all em player-haters jealous
  Billboard charts should tell us 
  They cant touch us, why niggas bring the ruckus?
  Because release dates bigger than Mandelas, motherfuckers
  Just some ghetto boys
  Living in these ghetto streets 
  And every day, they gotta fight to stay alive
  Its just reality
  Yeah, make you a deal, check
  These heres the dog years and motherfuckers dont shed
  I try to bring you life, but motherfuckers want dead
  So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead
  Cause when its on, then its on, the shots flown through your head
  I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread
  Some say I been here before because of the way I zone
  Some said Jiggas zones like the falling of Rome
  Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause hes observant
  Wont be known until Im gone and niggas study my bones
  Mentally, been many places, but Im Brooklyns own
  In the physical, unseen like Allahs body
  In fact, my thoughts dont differ much from that of Godbody
  But its the R-shottie that got cats likening me to the mob John Gotti
  Rap dudes biting me cause I got it locked like the late Bob Marley
  Pardon me, yall, the great Bob Marley
  Solemnly, we mourn all the rappers thats gone
  Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born
  Know they aint fully prepared for this New World Order
  So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters
  You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it
  Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it
  Destined for greatness, and yall knew this when I doubled the pie
  Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I
  In school, I hated algebra, but I loved to multiply
  And I told my nigga Big Id be multi before I die
  And its gon happen, whether rapping or clapping, have it your way
  Cause if thats my dough youre trapping, Im clapping your way
  Its for the ghetto...
  Just some ghetto boys
  Living in these ghetto streets
  And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive 
  Its just reality 
  Damn, it feel good to see people up on it 
  Flipped two keys in two weeks and didnt flaunt it 
  My brain is haunted, with mean dreams
  GSs with BBs on it, supreme schemes
  To get richer than Richie quickly, niggas wanna hit me
  If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it
  My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat
  High-caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit
  In my circumference, mad bitches with mad Lucci
  Bulletproof vestses under they Coogis
  Spittin my Uzi, dont lose me, my trigger niggas represent
  Driving dirty in J-30s gettin bent 
  And to my hit hoes, my murder mamis
  I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me
  While you still killin niggas with punani, like heiny
  And Cyrus up in Cypress
  Fuck you raw, you on the floor with the virus
  While I just slang coke, smoke pounds of choke 
  Got lawyers watching lawyers so I wont go broke, now check it
  Them country niggas call me Frank White
  Im squirtin off up in my loft, of course, I know my shits tight
  Sunrise, open my eyes, no surprise
  Got my shorty flyin in with keys taped to her thighs
  With all the utensils, who hang my china thing
  She half-Black, half-oriental, eighty-six, she got me rental
  The situation aint accidental
  What? From a, from a young Gs perspective, ugh...
  What? From a, from a young Gs perspective, ugh...
  Just some ghetto boys
  Living in these ghetto streets
  And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
  Its just reality, its just reality
  Just some ghetto boys
  Living in these ghetto streets
  And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
  Its just reality