[Intro]

No need for lactose, pure straight out Bolivia, Peru

Uncut, baby, what?!

(Fuck you!)

[Verse 1]

Life is a struggle! That's why niggas I know stay on the juggle

Some hustle to double, others hug you then mug you

Poverty-stricken, they even turn a church kid into stickin'

It seems sickenin', but what! Whatever makes the pockets thicken

Fuck police! Ain't no remorse for the beast

That's lost on the streets

They'll pistol-whip a priest for a crosspiece

I'm lost, chief, runnin' through strips, thinkin' of top dealers

Fillin' TEC clips with cop-killers that could stop gorillas

Shovin' a stub-nose in buttholes, I'm nutso, schizo', klepto'

Killin' shit up throughout the metro

My thug essence'll always keep me plugged with drug investments

Sketch my reference, takin' papers considered preference

And violations will lead to kidnappin', decapitation

So what you're facin' is realism that's into activation

Livin' off land with five honies playin' my hand

Me and fam sippin' off Guinness stout and eatin' clams

It's all part of plans, a vet chillin' in Tamps, West and Stans

Out-of-state connects, slugs, sex, drugs and grands

[Refrain]

What?! For my hype niggas (Uncut)

Trife niggas (Raw), 25-to-life niggas

[Verse 2]

This is as pure as opium

Purified for street players to open 'em

Spaced like three L's laced with coke in 'em

Shots awoken 'em, fake-uniform Jakes approachin' 'em

Six trips for young cliques and killers coachin' 'em

However though, fake ass niggas'll never know

'Cause my method's perfected, I'm movin' skeptic and never show

I'm soon to blow, stack doe, lay on the low

While I'm sippin' Cristal, I mess with Long Island and Mo'

A part of nature, me wan' acres in Jamaica

Puffin' exotic trees without seeds rolled up in leaf paper

So exhale, 'cause if I don't live to tell

Then fuck it! Farewell, I'll see the rest of y'all niggas in Hell

[Refrain]

What?! For my hype niggas (Uncut)

Trife niggas (Raw), 25-to-life niggas (Yeah)

[Verse 3]

So all my goodfellas, hero'n, coke and weed sellers

What the fuck cats can't tell us if they ain't got bread to bail us?

Have to survive, I done seen it all, Peter pay Paul

From the connivers to the livest, they crack for

It's all war, the streets are filled up with guns galore

Trainin' young for war, gettin' their minds flung for sure

[Outro]

Yo, dun! Cock the four!

Motherfuckers think we're playin', back 'em down

Holdin' niggas for hostages, what?! What?!

Chill, chill, chill!

Fuck that!