Yeah yeah   Word up (Yeah son)   Yeah yo how this goin down nine-six   How we livin son (exoticness)   Nine-six exoticness (representin’)   Know what I mean? (A+)   A+ (yo how we livin?)   This is New York City   Ninety-seven Sosa   A to Z up in the spot representin   Takin it back from here its sposed to be   Takin ya back son take it back   Check it      [Chorus]      Six digit trickin coke and henny mixin many listen   Fuckin give me mine dont wanna see no penny missin   Its old tradition how we click and fall in position   The rap coalition, we gettin rich an      [A+]      Poetically Im deadly like a crucifiction   Buddha addiction   Dismissin competition when they roll wit friction   My whole crew be schemin flippy   Like ixing for that chicken   Smith brothas and A on ya Mason-Dixon   Who want the steel cap feel the real rap   Patiently my whole crew waited and we rock premeditated   Chucked underground like the rap genie    And watch the shore by the rising tide now the whole world can see me   When they get foul thats when my style gets wild   I hang a man in front of a crowd without a trial   KAPOW, yo thats all she wrote end the quote   For frontin, a brotha got a dome and his legs broke      [Chorus: 2X]      [A+]      Yeah son I want it all your crib, cars and beepers   Wit hundred dollar sneakers my sounds blowin ya speakers   Burgundy landcruisers chrome rims on blue rugers   Lyrical hollow tip slug point trugers      [AZ]      Yo yo   Yo drug connects   Diamond cut bergets drippin wet   My hole is there from Cu-bec got her flippin checks   What, I push a black Lex with gold on my neck   You rockin wit a vest tryin to catch a hole in ya chest   Firm official, exotic girl but wanna be the ritual   Leavin lights shine light theyve been psyched to slip through      [A+]      I will abolish   MCs get straight up demolished   Yo my mind is like a nine I load it up wit knowledge      [Chorus: 2X]      The realism must continue where I live is like a battlefield   We all poor but on my block is like a half a mil   Surrounded by the most criminal type of elements   Blunts, stunts, gunshots, broken-down developments   Its all illegal, young juveniles wit the desert eagles   Street sweepers, heaters, soon-to-be retreaters   Its routine, people seem to go through a cycle   So confused, to choose between the bible or the rifle   Watch em stifle   Yo me an son gone escalate this   And get these papers run some capers while they catch the vapors   Yeah son, dont got no time for no chicken trickin   Its the lyrical addiction   Cuz me an AZ be politikin      [Chorus: 4X]