School ya'll to somethin right quick Sit down, open your ears, close your eyes, listen
Here's a little story that I got to tell About this Chico named Pit everyone knows so well Illmatic like Nas but that ain't hard to tell Owes it all to Dade County and the ATL Picked rap and skipped the triple beam scale And it's a known fact he gon' die before he fails These boys rap about hustlin' but can't make bail I call that hustling backwards and that's real Miami's hot so I can vacation in hell The way the game is shit, man, I mind as well I look at these fools on camera flashin' they tools They must've forgot the streets got codes and rules But me, I'm confused 'Cause rappers wanna be gangstas Gangstas wanna be rappers Ballers wanna be rappers And rappers wanna be ballers The truth is it's more sickening than Ebola Until they handcuff then it's over Pop up no dandruff, no neck, just head and shoulders Bust guns, sell drugs, that's what the streets showed us But corporate America, that's what they sold us