[Intro: Shyheim]
Yo, what the fuck's the deal?
It's the kid right here, Father Shy
You know? And I only represent what I represent
For all y'all who don't like it, suck a dick
And wer murder every track you got on, then plead the fifth
Who gon' plead my fifth, nigga?

[Shyheim]
You better call me the coyote, I'm the road runner runnin' the streets
Murder from my C.D. like Chi-Ali, don't want no animos'
My mom said, "Knock him out", my pops said, "Shoot him in his mouth"
I was raised like that, my house sold crack
And no matter what happened we stuck to our family pact
"Don't never let nuttin' die and don't ever buy the 8th act"
The guy, Gil got a hundred and five
Kane got seven, Un got twenty-five
Real's facin' twenty-five, Red got three-to-nine
What about Homicide? Read my nigga Chino and head from the F.B.I.
Shy don't want to talk to nobody, nobody talks to Shy
I been by Ra' since I first grouped with Guy-Guy
Been buckwild since the size of Bow Wow
Bit Shy now, don't get it fucked up
It'll get you fucked up
Got a Benz and Bentley so fuckin' what?
Tell it to the judge (tell it to the judge)

[Interlude: Prodigal Sunn (Shyheim)]
Eh-yo Shy (What up son?)
Yo check this out son
Yo this shit right here son (What up?)
I'm punchin' niggas, they furniture out they motherfuckin' mouth son
(You know what, that's nice son) Yo word up
Niggas is talkin' rubbish and out here pussy

[Prodigal Sunn]
Yo really I'm not concerned when the tables turned y'all niggas gon' burn
Black germ, royal before my father dropped sperm
Permanant, solid brolic, schemin' on hydrolics
Up in the projects feedin my son in Killa Spafford
You know the logic, T.U.F.A. prospect
On my way to Park Place, smokin' an L to my face
Thinkin' out about this rap race, gats face to my base
Prayin' that I don't have to blow a nigga right in his face
And I thinkin' Tiwan' nigga, express how you feel
Like my niggas from the 'Ville, I never ran, never will
Want y'all crabs to squeal, plus y'all niggas blood spill
I'm promised like an automatic weapon to kill
Step on the shield, D&D I'm reppin' for real
Weapon concealed, gun in ya grill, you felt the son spill

[Interlude: L.E.O. (Prodigal Sunn)]
Yo yo Prodigal Sunn (Yeah)
These motherfuckers think they can take any crew, thinkin' they nice like me
Like they don't live a gangsta life
Like they got history, they non-militant ass niggas
I'm on some shit like.. eh-yo (let 'em know son)
Eh-yo.. eh-yo..

[L.E.O.]
Eh-yo I spaz on beats, pass on streets, casual thieves
These niggas think my gats the heat, I'm glad they sleep
Let this bastard reach or blast at me
Watch this bastard bleed, thrown in a basket sleek
Casket nigga, laughin', no questions askin' nigga
Dudes think they killin' cuz they six packs of niggas
My finger wrapped the trigger, put Mac to niggas
Kidnap the dealer, pass the skrillas, ask the realest
We ain't from the Beat-town Collegiate, handle ya seasons
Every pull I take I'm inhalin' the demon
And our field ain't leavin' 'til our field got grievin'
Let y'all niggas tell me if that's an ill ass reason

[Ras Kass]
Yo I'm gon' spit it and graze seven boa constrictors
Convict phillosophy shake down richter
Quick to spit atoms and anatomically double
So for a nigga to bubble is twice the trouble
Got a rockwilder who walk me down the block
with a muzzle, new Tunnel banger, the thug tune
And lames can't stand me
cuz I will shoot for dough baby like Camby slash Bambi
Let's do the damn thing
Runnin' games 'til my hustle pull a hamstring
A motherfuckin' Westsider
A lot of y'all niggas ain't riders
Second round dogs 'bout to fight like Elijah

[Killah Priest]
I spit fire, spit in ya church, spit at the choir
Spit out, hittin' ya tires, the kiss of the spider
The black widow, sleep with gats by the pillow
I wake up clappin' at windows and back with the info
Red at the head when I aim at ya temple
It's Priest, nigga, got the heat right by the liver
Run out in the street with sevens, the piece will lift ya
...it's closed, nigga