[Dr. Ama]

Doc is the name, glock in the hand
Pop off at scrams, that twat ^!$$% ran
My hood is my fam, N.Y.C. my land

Wit thugs pulling scams, we don't give a damn
$#&@ Uncle Sam, got love for the fans
Move drugs by the grams, got slugs for ya man

Fake hugs wanna ban, cuz they can't understand
My man 100 Grand on hip hop from S.I. land
No key wit the plan, violent is my clan

Pile up in the van, silencer for the blam
Silence of the Lamb, silence words that slam
Hammer never jam, G-O-D don't leave the hand

Now what, homey, and, your mouth shut like the clam
We deep like raising sand, you get japped like Japan
Slapped up, clapped up, caught up in the black truck

Ten miles an hour, gassed up, that's how we act up
Your back up backed up, fact your lackey black gush
That sucks won't attack us, guess that's a wrap, what


[Haxaw]
It ain't a game when we come through, we slaying

You scream at escalades like ya'll ain't playing
You homo, %#@! pop, you taking flight
I get it roxy anywhere ^!$$%, day or night

True thug, pass my homey, the gauge and fight
Beat you down something stupid, hardly suade my Nikes
Lace you tight, while ya'll practice how to hate me, right

Only thing on my mind is the cake, be like
I'm crazy nice, eat the track like steak and rice
Don't $#&@ wit Haxaw, tell ya man to save his life

Uh, you ain't know I was a problem giver
That left hook, make it definetly hard to get up
Or, pick up them launchers and bomb your stripper

Ya'll ^!$$%s need to send an army to get us
Oh, yeah, I'm rolling with killers
No need to distinguish, we handling business

Strictly dishing headshots, I ain't having a witness
Or leaving one either, til I die, I'm gon' live by them heaters
But don't get that %#@! twisted, dog, we swift with them beaters

Make your $$# lean back like a spliff of them cheebas
And just, eat your food like them cookies from Keebler
You ain't convincing me you hard dog, you soft as a diva

I roll wit Staten Island killas, and we off of the meter
What you ain't know about Haxaw, I'm the boss of your leader
If I ain't terrorizing hoods, I'm in the loft with a skeezer

Patron on ice, blaze sparking the trees up
Hundred and fifty dollar L's, how I do, fam, it's nothing, it's peanuts


[R.B.I.]
My man, pass me the mic, just came from the streets
He trust me, to pass sight, when it's on, pass the heat

This is, hardly a norm, when I storm the beats
A hustler, my arms and legs form streets
Never, reep wit movements, talk is cheap

Walk wit me, quietly, and plug your leaks
It's bout business, and more business, every week
Don't like to say week, cuz week could be tooken for weak

Stand strong on my feet forever, look in the eyes of a killa
Cuz he playing for keeps, everybody get that money
We knock teeth, R.B.I.

Tell you the truth, my visions are never bleek
Keep bling in my pockets, my lady like streets
Beside, when I go in, I'm going deep

Back to the track, see what I see, talk the real
Only if it's real talk, you seek, that's the deal
Pull on your foreskin, I reveal what's underneath

In the beginning, I'm a man, in the end I'm a beast
Smoke better than an Indian chief, to maintain composure
My anger is coming from my feet