Shouts to my dudes in Medina
The desert / Oasis, Pelan, Mecca, Savior's Island
Death to the evil doers who chose to oppose Thugga
Success to the Soundscan with all the low numbers
Long live the ally, the call me the bad guy
'cause I'm holding and my pockets swollen like a black eye
Add and subtract my, math 'cause I'm that wise
Yeah that crown that's mines, I said so that's why
Niggas keep screaming Pap you bringing New York back
That's non-cypher man I'm bringing Allah back
Miss my old friends man I can't get in contact
It's cool, guess I'll see 'em on my new contract
Journey through Medina with a largе gat
But I'll hand to hand combat with all of y'all rats
I tote the shotty Mausberg on thе Williamsburg
I tote the very large tech on the Throggs Neck
I tote the .38 special on the Tri-Borough
I tote the Desert Eagle through the Midtown tunnel
You know your boy tote the Sig on the Brooklyn bridge
The damn fifth on the Van Wyck, yes I did
Journey Medina with a nina why the mess with me?
Knowing I'ma ride dirty till I reach my destiny
Sleeping with the enemy you get a head full of lead
Never let my enemy take a nap in your bed
He the type who like to rap for the feds
Until he end in a wheelchair dragging his legs
You can't come back from the dead
Them stupid niggas should've shot me in the back of my head
You think you thorough 'cause you stacking but man
I highly disagree I think you just a faggot with bread
Think I talk behind your back? I be laughing 'cause man
I say it in your face, then I tell you that's what I said
See how tough they be acting but man
They know damn well when it started cracking the fled
See nowadays shit is backwards 'cause man
They don't respect the code of silence they be ratting instead
Soon as you catch him and you clap him up man
They nosy lady talking 'bout "you heard what happened to Fred?"
I tote a very nice chrome on the Whitestone
I tote the AK on the Belt Parkway
I tote the Larsen son on the George Washington
You know I keep the roscoe when I'm on the Verrazano
I keep the thing on my side on the I-95
The damn pistol on the Grand Central, cock it and drive
Journey The Desert with a weapon why the mess with me?
Knowing I'ma ride dirty till I reach my destiny
You know the God speak humble, why y'all seek trouble?
Digging your own grave, your arms need a shovel
My arms bring muscle, my palms swing knuckles
Till y'all see doubles, my sword seek devils
Your cars need a shuffle, your bars seem muffled
My songs teach hustle, you dogs need a muzzle
I stomp deep puddles, my sore feet struggle
To walk through the depths of this concrete jungle
It's like the wilderness, tough but we still exist
I walk the battlefield till Biz completed my pilgrimage
Protect the squealer quick, how could you shield a snitch?
When he sending dudes to jail, what's all the carelessness
Had your come out party so now your a killer prick
Once a sucka always a sucka you still a bitch
And I ain't clearing this, up you hearing this
Brand new kicks, if the shoe fits then wear it shit
He eat McDonalds everyday you feeling sick?
His hamburger sharing click copped two meals to split
I know the managers, man they scandalous
Put his dick in his hand and piss right in your sandwiches
I eat Kosher food, baby girl prepare the fish
'cause we move enough bricks to build a building shit
They amateurs, chumps with camera tricks
These dudes ain't sincere with this I'm the best lyricist
Brooklyn is Medina, the Bronx is Pelan
Manhattan is Mecca, Queens the Desert word is bond
Staten is Savior's Island why the mess with me
Knowing I'ma ride dirty till I reach my destiny