[Intro: Freeway]

Man if I get rocked, this shit for my kids, nigga

It's that real shit

(Even though what we do is wrong)

[Verse 1: Freeway & Jay-Z]

We still hustle 'til the sun come up

Crack a forty when the Sun go down

It's a cold winter, y'all niggas better bundle up

And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion just to rock it down

You hot now, listen up

Don't you know cops' sole purpose is to lock us down?

And throw away the key

But without this drug shit, your kids ain't got no way to eat, huh?

We still try to keep mom, smilin'

'Cause when her teeth stop showin'

And her stomach start growlin' then the heat start flowin'

If you from the hood, I know you feel me (Keep goin')

If a sneak start leaning (Uh-huh) and the heat stop workin' (Woo)

Then my heat start workin', I'ma rob me a person (Uh)

Catch a nigga sleeping (Uh) while he out in the open

And I'ma get him (Keep flowin')

We gotta raise our kids while we livin'

Make a million off a record, bail my niggas outta prison

Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the squadder

Nigga talk reckless then I hit 'em with the Smith 'n

But I'm never snitching, I'm a rider

If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya kitchen

I'll be wilding 'til they pick me out a line-up

(Even though what we do is wrong)

We keep the nines tucked, chop dimes up, rap about it

Wild out, fuck niggas up, laugh about it

I'm not tryna visit the morgue

But Freeway move out 'til I sit with the Lord

'Til I, get my shit together, clean up my sins

Freeway got it in like ten in the morning

And I can get it to ya like ten while you yawning, mane

(Even though what we do is wrong)

Still deliver the order, mane

And I ain't talkin' 'bout chicken and gravy, mane

I'm talking bout bricks of yayo, halves and quarters

Four and a halves of hash, you do the math

Swing past us, scoop up your daughter

She wanna roll with a thug that rap, you do the math

He gon' blast 'til my stacks in order, mane

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]

Mane, let me get 'em, Free

Hov never slacking mane, zipping in the black Range

Faster than the red ghost, getting ghost with Pac-Man

One-time know I got a knack to get that change

Leader of the black gang, R-O-C, mane

Bang like T-Mac, ski mask, air it out

Gotta kill witnesses 'cause Free's beard's sticking out

Y'all don't want to witness shit, we squeeze hammers, mane

Bullets breeze by you, like Louisiana, mane

But I gotta feed Tianna, mane

So I move keys, you can call me the Piano Man

Rain, sleet, hail, snow, mane

Slang dope, E, hydro, mane

[Verse 3: Beanie Sigel]

You, know, B. Sige' in the third lane

Gramps still praying, working on my nerves, mane

Like, "Son, you gotta get your soul clean

Before they blow them horns like Coltrane"

But still I cry tears of a hustler

Wipe tears from my mother, pour out beers for our brothers

That's above us, make beds for the babies

Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers

Shit, I'll probably be wilding with their fathers

Tell Ms. Robert, tell Anajmah that I'm riding for her father

That's like my brother, like same mother, different father

Any problems, dog, know I got 'em

And still we grind from the bottom

Just to make it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways

Still gave back Marcy on Dollar Day

Real gangstas make hood holidays

They ain't thank us but we still paid homage, mane

Soul Food Sunday looking like Big Mama's, mane

Tell the gang I never break my promise, mane

Mane, uh

[Outro]

Even though what we do is wrong

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong

Even though what we do is wrong

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong