[Emilio Rojas]Yeah, I saw a woman get hit on Amsterdam, she tryna cop her some shitRight across from the barber shop, a car on top of her headThat Columbian Presbyterian pronouncin' her deadShe died the first time the needle ever punctured her skinNow are we citizens or immigrants? They ain’t fill they census inIn the middle of criminals, hopin' to get a legitimate business inNo minimum wage, now they be givin' them minimum sentencesIf they gonna live in a cage, well then they family gonna live better, shitNow my incentive is to keep my people wealthyEatin', organic, I keep my people healthyLeaky, Titanic, them freaky women love meYoung Hispanics in galleries up in ChelseaAh, what the fuck you mean I ain’t nice?I’m lightning and strikin' twice, excitin' as any viceI got you beggin' me for your lifeUntil your knees lookin' like the fuckin' Passion of the ChristWhere they be doublin' bags half priceKeepin' an eye out for the vice or when the D’s pass byLife a crap shoot, we rollin' them stacked diceFor bills that are past due, hoes that are stacked nice‘Cause we advocates for savage shit, Impalas always passin' itPiojos always staggerin' ‘cause you could get a bag for tenThe high is now even if tomorrow cancerousDon’t worry about the future when all that’s holdin' is jowl or deathWe holdin' shallow breath, all of my people are lookin' at whipsAnd chains like if that’s success but they can’t pass the testShe 16 and showin' ass and breasts‘Cause mama said fuck a bachelor degree, go get a bacheloretteAnd start a family, don’t start a career, yeahThat’s the mentality for daughters up here, yeahThe latest block gossip, man, that’s all that you hearLike, “Yo, who fuckin' who?!” and “Who about to get cheers?”It’s all addictions and convictions and ritual superstitionsBotanicas on the corner with rosaries in the windowsPastors don’t give a shit about Jesus’s crucifixion‘Cause they be gettin' they money from skimmin' out the collectionsSinners with imperfections, agendas and hid intentionsBitches is whippin' Benzes, we Section 8 on they rentedKids that ain’t know they father, the odds have been stacked against usThat’s just the way that we livin' on 167th
