Hell Yeah (Pimp the System) ​dead prez

Holton Street
Dean Street, click clack
President, uh huh
Nostrand Ave, DPz
Orange Ave, RBGs
Tee Town, who wanna ride
Brooklyn, come on, come on

[Verse 1]
Sitting in the living room on the floor
Hunger pang got me on some migraine shit
But I'mma maintain
Nigga got two or three dollars to my name
And my homies in the same boat going through the same thing
Ready for a caper, steady plottin' for the paper
We been living in the dark since April
On the candle, gotta get a handle
My homie got a twenty-five automatic added to the gamble
Nigga get the phone book, look up in the yellow page
Lemme tell you how we finna get paid
We gonna order take-out and when they send the driver
We gonna stick the twenty-five up in his face
Let's ride, stepping outside like warriors
Heading to the notorious Southside
One weapon to the four of us
Hiding in the corridor until we see the beams from the car headlights
White boy in the wrong place at the right time
Soon as the car door open up, he mine
We roll up quick and put the pistol to his nose
By the look on his face he probably shitted in his clothes
You know what this is
It's a stick up
Gimme the do' from your pickups
You ran into the wrong niggas
We running down the block hot with these stacks of boxes
So we split up and met back at the apartment