[Intro: Solomon Childs]

Yeah, son, these niggas don't fucking want it

(New York City), yeah, my motion picture

Follow me, yeah, yeah, man, this sound serious, man

Listen to me dog (come on)

[Chorus: Solomon Childs]

Top of the world, on top of your girl

Real recognize real, you feel the redrum?

Top of the world, then let me see you eat something

You cowards, you ain't try'nna watch nothing get hurt

And ain't try'nna hurt nothing

[Solomon Childs]

I'm from where niggas snitch, and then be back on the block

The same day, forever rep Henderson and Broadway

I'm from where the guns in my hood foreign

From where these flatbox is borrowed in, from where the pigs don't go

From where you can't get a fair one, every apartment got at least one gun

From where the average nigga don't come

You feel the redrum? From where they mix hypnotic with the hennessey

From where the extortion your game move heavily

From where a nigga don't care, who your family is

But gotta make sure you handle your biz

But seriously, I'm from where it's a war

Fatigue jackets, car hard suits, Timberland construction boots

I'm from where winter time, we bought nana

A bulletproof coat, from when cats is turnin' hundreds into keys of coke

From where a nigga will hang himself with his own rope

The massagin' of a thug swing, I'm from where all white boys

Be wild like Axl Rose, you scared? I'm telling you what to do

Sign in, you getting closer to God

Or maybe getting closer to you

[Chorus]

[Solomon Childs]

I'm from where cats turn they back on you

From where police'll put a bundle on you

I'm from where everybody in the hood cousins

From where you get popped for fronting

From where the beef patties are stale

From where the O.G.'s still sip Valentine Ale

From where the real niggas is in jail

And got parole hoes, and ain't getting no bail

From where your baby mothers don't send no mail

Out of sight, out of mind, from where your little man being sponsored

By the next man, from where your man's police, and he'll lend you his nine

Lend you his Glock, lend you his vest

Lend you his shield, cover up the nigga you killed, huh?

[Chorus]

[Outro: Solomon Childs]

Nothing at all...

My guns is all I got to bust

My dogs is all I got to trust

This CREAM is all I got to see...

Staten Island, New York City

My guns is all I got to bust

My dogs is all I got to trust

This CREAM is all I got to see...

We run the game, man