(*B-Real sings the chorus on 11 seconds*)

What's up we gonna go down the line baby
Brand new one from the Call O Da Wild
Give big shouts to money makin Manhattan
145th street crews, 155th street crews
All my niggaz on the East Side
We gonna flip the track baby, flip the script like this
Big shouts to all the weed spots and all that who know how we do

Me things no money sat on Monies chicks
Fillin Barcadi on club seats
Harm's represent the crease on wise fully feet harmly accriminate
Futuristic kittens of the street all malfunction seats
Crews stand like mannequins sportin names is Tim's
I'll make half your flaps burn is self-discipline
And supportin your kittens if you're convinced
They keep the scripts movie-men
Experience and hard is (???) has captured run for the (???)
Mischievous black kids dipped in black hooches
Ruthless-a the caswendler stupid used to pump with the any gooier
Now let the card hold the futures

Don't want to do it but they wanna
Just the Intellectual ganja puffin dons causing trauma
Don't want to do it but they wanna
Just the Intellectual trauma causing dime

(Barron Ricks)
B Ricks stands anonymous decant flicks
And non-raps that can't bonely manifest the Buddha blessed
Freshly dressed rollin in the clubs for success
I'm not dressed in materialistic games to get the sex
The five six I'm livin fortune of survival tactics
Keepin my enemies close and all my niggaz out of business
What is this?
Slicey characters spreadin my business
Fragments that can't manage that do damage yo I had it
Environmental pressure causing static
In fabric of the asiac cabbage it's madness
All this I'm civilized now what do I now?
Run these avenues buckwild with crews now who is it?
Makin all you critics fiend these lyrics
And be the core
Yes y'all comin through on your premises
This is it

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