Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)
 (Word, it's time [bad word] )
 Yeah, it's time man (aight [bad word]  begin)
 Yeah, straight out the [bad word] dungeons of rap
 Where fake niggaz don't make it back
 I don't know how to start this [bad word]  yo, now

Rappers I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin
 Musician, [bad word] 
 of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine
 Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now
 Bulletholes left in my peepholes
 I'm suited up in street clothes
 Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
 Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay
 I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway
 Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs
 Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps
 G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk [bad word] 
 Remeniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
 Niggaz [bad word] through the block shootin
 Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston
 Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and
 I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
 Pick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit
 Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip
 Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look
 Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my [bad word] is stuck
 Try to [bad word] it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger
 Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
 So now I'm jetting to the building lobby
 and it was filled with children probably couldn't see as high as I be
 (So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same
 Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name
 and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
 In broad daylight, stickup kids, [bad word] up on us
 Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact
 Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black
 There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
 So hold your stash until the coke price drop
 I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
 And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
 You gotta slide on a vacation
 Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
 It drops deep as it does in my breath
 I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
 Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
 I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind

Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs
 Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped
 Investments in stocks, sewein up the blocks
 to sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega cops
 But just a [bad word]  walking with his finger on the trigger
 Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger
 I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin
 Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressin
 Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter
 Whenever [bad word] I'ma hijack Delta
 In the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays
 Young [bad word] is grazed each block is like a maze
 full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed
 From what I hear in all the stories when my [bad word] back, black
 I'm livin where the nights is jet black
 The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back
 and lamp like Capone, with [bad word] scripts sewn
 Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes
 I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane
 Life is parallel to [bad word] but I must maintain
 and be prosperous, though we live dangerous
 cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostages
 It's only right that I was born to use mics
 and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dykes
 I'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow
 My rhymin is a vitami