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 %#@!, 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