[Intro: sample from "Gladiator" (Solomon Childs)]
Some of you are thinking you won't fight

Some that you can't fight
They all they say that, until they aren't there...
Thrust this into another man's flesh

And they will applaud and love you for that
You... you may begin to love them, for that
Ultimately, we're all dead men

(What, huh, yeah, enjoy your classic, I'm tellin' you man
I need this to be big, you know, big, come on)


[Chorus: Solomon Childs]
I dedicate this to the souls
Who ain't never gonna get a chance to shine

Who got gut down try'nna climb
Who knows, maybe it wasn't your time
Who knows, maybe you needed more time

And if so, show me a sign
Cuz I'm still a part of this cold world
And gotta hold mine


[Solomon Childs]
Twenty three hour of one main, locked down

Vietnamese Contra with the four pound
Bing monster, time to lay you mutha$#&@ers down
I'm living with the snakes, crocodiles

Intense like when a jaguar growls
Staten Island Finest, you cowards will now bow
And keep quiet, ^!$$%z gonna have to pay me off

Or risk being exposed, you soft
A young general walks, I'm the new Marlon Brando
Red rag tied around my head like Rambo

West Brighton, New York City Commando
Institutionalized, wild cowboy, steel tip boots
Can't stop eating Oriental soups

Lyrically potency, that cause all kinds of larceny
Caesars, I throw a book in his mouth
Stop shaking, made 'em believers


[Chorus]


[Solomon Childs]
Thundering, rumbling, gangsta music that's comforting
Neighborhood world wars, with pipes, knives and 2 by 4's

Snitches, swallow in the hood, (*##$es, swallowing in the hood
Semi automatics for sale, holla if you good
My pedigree be military cargo

I'm try'nna see money like Oprah Winfrey and Harpo
Eastside, with Jahmoo and Franko
Hear the emotion, act up, get ya legs tied up

With bricks, floating at the bottom of the ocean
Boulevard, poetry in the motions
This is death with it's eyes open

This is raw !@%!e, with your nose open
Eastside, ^!$$%


[Chorus x2]