[Intro: Prodigy]
For my G-pack n***as
(Right... right...)
Shooting at cops – n***a, what?
(For my G-pack n***as...)
Fuck the police
N.Y.P.D. – New York Pricks and Dicks
They can't stop our floss, straight up (For you crackheaded bitches)
For my A.M. n***as (For you crackheaded bitches)
My Ante Meridiem n***as – what up, dunn?
Liquor store closing (No doubt, no doubt...)
Hit the bootlegger, let's hit the bootlegger
Straight up, yo

[Verse 1: Prodigy]
Yo dunn, we got guns and the grass, it's 3 at night
I'm about to take the last swallow of the Eases Jesus
Who got 50 on the next tree? We gotta stop at the store
We need D batteries for the theme music
Snatch the biscuits from out the lawn
Fuck a cab, let's take cracked-out Yolanda's Saab
We gave that bitch two wibbles
Then skated off with her vehicle for that pillow
All outside, the borough – dunn, what happened to Queens?
Like Sutphin and 1-2-1, Farmers and 116th
They got us on the BQE, just to get a taste of that greenery
We took our smoke out to Coney Island, posted up by The Himalaya
Pina Colada Champales mixed with Dainy – that's St. Ide's in dunn lingo
Spillin' it on the floor for our dead people
While I spark the sequel
Shit... my n***as got lungs
When we smoke, that shit only go around once
Dogs, we just killin' time
Somebody just got they shit twist' on the block, fuckin' up the grind
So, 'til it pipe down
We just going at the sluts – bitch, we wanna fuck right now
[Verse 2: Cormega]
Son, I'm on a bench, high, eatin' chicken wings and french fries
A crackhead fuck spent his last bucks on 6 dimes
I'm one gram from big-time, a spliff away from overdosin'
My heart is broken, my man started smokin' again
P, I heard The Tunnel open again
I spoke to Flex, he said he gonna let both of us in
It's time I load up the autos and semis
I wish my n***a Spank was in the physical form of life
I got my Uptown Nikes, thugged out and icy
Mad deep, jumpin' out the cocaine white Jeep
Through with strugglin', so I resume hustlin'
Rap game or crack game, my crew is still bubblin'
Yo, 3 in the morning and the D's on the corner still
Seems we were born to kill; yo, P meet me on The Hill
So we could jet through Queens in SUV's
And show these motherfuckers how we rep this thing – ya know?