[Produced by Havoc]

[Verse 1: Prodigy]

Now, '94 to '95, innocent without crime...

(Drop that shit) Yeah, yeah, check it out

Now run for your life, or you wanna get your heat, whatever

We can die together

As long as I send your maggot ass to the essence

I don't give a fuck about my presence

I'm lost in the blocks of hate and can't wait

For the next crab nigga to step and meet fate

I'm lethal when I see you, there is no sequel

24-7, mac 11 is my people

So why do you wanna end your little life like this?

Cause now you've bump heads with kids that's lifeless

I live by the day only if I survive

The last night, damn right, I ain't tryin' to fight

We can settle this like some grown men on the concrete floor

My slugs will put a stop to your hardcore

Ways of action, I grab the gat, then

Ain't no turning back when I start blastin'

Pick up the handle and insert the potion

Cock the shit back in a calm like motion

No signs of anger or fear cause you the one in danger

Never share your plans with a stranger, word is bond

Check it out, now

[Hook]

I put the drop on you kid, now I got you

You got the heart to get busy without your crew?

Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do

You buckin' me, I'm buckin' right back at you

I put the drop on you kid, now I got you

You got the heart to get busy without your crew?

Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do

You buckin' me, I'm buckin' right back at you

Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now

Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now

Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now

[Verse 2: Havoc]

Fuck where you're at kid, it's where you're from

Cause where I'm from, niggas pack nothin' but the big guns

Around my way, niggas don't got remorse for out-of-towners

Come through fronting and get stuffed with the 3-pounder

The loud sounder, ear ringer

And I'm a point the finger, at all you wannabe gunslingers

You got a real ice grill but are you really real

Step to the hill and I'm a test your gun skills

Cause real niggas don't try to profile

You just a chump who needs to get drunk to buckwild

But swing that bullshit this way

And I'm a make your visit to the bridge a motherfucking short stay

Queensbridge, that's where I'm from

The place where stars are born and phony rappers get done

6 blocks and you might not make it through

What you gonna do when my whole crew is blazing at you

With macs and tecs to lend to get your dome crush

You thought that you could come around my way you beef, stupid fuck

What the hell you smoking? What the fuck possessed you

To come out your face, now I have to wet you

Throw on my Timbs, black mask and black serpent

Twist a nigga cap, then jump in the J-30, Cause I'm -

[Hook]

I put the drop on you kid, now I got you

You got the heart to get busy without your crew?

Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do

You buckin' me, I'm buckin' right back at you

[Verse 3: Hype Da Madman]

Straight up and down, Imma let you know now

You feel the gunshot bloaw from the Red Eye style

Now pass the owl and let me roll the method

Shit’s hectic while I’m cested, where’s the mic? Let me wreck it, check it

My rugged rhyme, lyrical design hit your spine

Every time that the Red Eye shine

Blinds the naked eye cause they can’t see through

The smoked screen behind the scene stands the Red Eye crew

Now it’s true, my spiritual comes through my physical

Both connected by the method, therefore I’m lyrical

So what you gonna down I come to pursue

With my Tec 22 and infra red on you?

For real, my laser beam likes to see when I squeeze

I’m like a sniper when I strike you, steady busting from trees

MCs, you know my steez, I’m living trifle with the rifle

Punks I make them stifle feed they ass to my disciples

[Verse 4: Big Noyd]

My little thug's selling drugs and he's struggling

The game got him bugging, I trying to tell him slow down cousin

But he vexed and niggas getting wet up in the projects

But with no doubt, shortie's out for his respect

But is his brain insane from the lye?

From smoking that one eighteen tiny tye

Why, a nigga just died last week

As he swore he was grown and he's a thug in the street

And it's like that, my crew pump cracks and we pack macs

His eyes is wild with the rezzy monkey on his back

But I'm stressed and I need to be blessed

With a firepack, don't even go there cause it ain't like that

Slow down baby, he said, what, you trying to play me?

You must be crazy, pulled out the heat and almost blazed me

Then he was Swayze...