[Verse 1: Tribeca]

You have not seen the scenery

Don't know what it's like to beef with me

See the heathens speak easily on easy street

Yeah, they living like they villains but our children need a meal

On the block clocking but that type of time will kill

(Yeah, tell em why you mad homie, tell em how you feel)

You bet you right, damn sure I will

When I got my deal, life was looking up

Now I could give a fuck 'cause them record labels steal

Still we struggle to live on with my kid to my arms

I uplift the strong, the hood on my back, my missus on my lap

And still I react, I've been dodging the traps

Yes, rap was born where I'm from

God praised me as a son so I rep till I'm done

[Chorus]

We roll on niggas like a bunch of I'l Greeks

With heats and keep these streets hot like we freed Lhus

We born together like some sheiks from the middle east

All they get is one damn nation yelling out fuck peace

[Verse 2: Nut-Rageous]

Yo, late night bodega run, I ran into my little dun

Sitting there looking through the barrel of a devil's gun

He talking about a body that he caught and he on the run

Out of state trying to get that extra cake major fun

Who I am to tell him? I'm a felon

Just came home from packing a pack in the back and drug selling

Shortie rebelling, man he just like me

I remember when I was sixteen hugging the streets

I had the OG's trying to screw me, I walked away like fuck you

I'm Nutso and flash the toolie

Half of my niggas doing life or smoking woolies

Shorty when you're looking at the mirror looking at me

But my advice to this little nigga, you gotta take flight

Relocate from the hood and start a new life

[Chorus]

We roll on niggas like a bunch of I'l Greeks

With heats and keep these streets hot like we freed Lhus

We born together like some sheiks from the middle east

All they get is one damn nation yelling out fuck peace

[Verse 3: Termanology]

I'm sick of liars, sick of bitches and sick of friends

I'm sick of him and I'm sick of sitting like get it in

I'm sick of fakers, law makers, and life takers

That just throw you away then go and eat pizza

Laugh about it, it's getting crowded up in the game

Too many bout it bout it but really ain't bout a thing

Too many make it rain in their songs but the thing

Is in real life you won't see them throwing a thing

Except a fit, rappers with bitch tendencies

Been through the seven seas, Jim Beam, Tennessee

You call it whiskey, me I call it risky

Police frisk me hitting me with the metal things

Like it's no rules, hit the Pro Tools

And burn it down with my peeps from the Snowgoons

[Chorus]

We roll on niggas like a bunch of I'l Greeks

With heats and keep these streets hot like we freed Lhus

We born together like some sheiks from the middle east

All they get is one damn nation yelling out fuck peace