[Intro: Sample + Killer Mike]
"They're an arrogant, ingrown, close-knit brotherhood like the mafia. They're the product of a sick society. To hell with tomorrow, their bag is today—their bag is right now."
I've seen AK-47s. I've seen sawed-off shotguns
I've seen all of this. I've seen dynamite on the streets
[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
Surrounded by violence and murder
Say, we in the streets and we grippin' on heat
You got beef then we fryin' your burger
My shoes on my feet and my words and my balls
Is all I got, fuck with a murder
Will happen to you, I am certain
I'm certain as hell and I'm grippin' the tail
Of Satan himself: the serpent
We pullin' in no social service
We go in the store, they look nervous
So down me to hell, damn me to jail
Like fuck you, we robbin' the merchants
The preachers sound silly in service
Convincin' my mama that all of the drama
Must certainly serve higher purpose
How fightin' could turn into curses
When I tell her any god that make it plenty hard
Really ain't worth it to worship
Man, I believe in my patches
Man I believe in my fists
Man, I believe in bandanas and pistols
And holdin' down, rockin' my sets
Born into turmoil and trouble
I became King of the Rubble
"They're an arrogant, ingrown, close-knit brotherhood like the mafia. They're the product of a sick society. To hell with tomorrow, their bag is today—their bag is right now."
I've seen AK-47s. I've seen sawed-off shotguns
I've seen all of this. I've seen dynamite on the streets
[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
Surrounded by violence and murder
Say, we in the streets and we grippin' on heat
You got beef then we fryin' your burger
My shoes on my feet and my words and my balls
Is all I got, fuck with a murder
Will happen to you, I am certain
I'm certain as hell and I'm grippin' the tail
Of Satan himself: the serpent
We pullin' in no social service
We go in the store, they look nervous
So down me to hell, damn me to jail
Like fuck you, we robbin' the merchants
The preachers sound silly in service
Convincin' my mama that all of the drama
Must certainly serve higher purpose
How fightin' could turn into curses
When I tell her any god that make it plenty hard
Really ain't worth it to worship
Man, I believe in my patches
Man I believe in my fists
Man, I believe in bandanas and pistols
And holdin' down, rockin' my sets
Born into turmoil and trouble
I became King of the Rubble
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