Yeah ha.. we vibin'
 Channel livin' all day ha c'mon
 Yo its me the m-e-t-h uh o-d
 ????
 Sniff a whole key
 My coke deep
 Be my consciouss tellin me it dont make sense
 Then guard his nonsense
 A niggas best defense is his offense
 So yo I watch po po
 And duck a dodo
 Birdies in them gogo's
 Trying to steal my mojo
 Oh no your'e fuckin with a pro
 Who go for dolo
 For sure though
 A season veteran holy a (dobo???)
 Come on now judge judy
 Youre televised through our vision
 While I black you get imprisoned
 When my eyes see through your eyes
 Your hypnotized
 Subconsciously you change the station to channel live
 That underground hard-core sound who said it'd die
 Cause if it is me and my nine's
 The first to ride
 For my niggas
 Live by the fire die by the flame
 Happy im gone knowin my son's gonna be the same
 As his dough-diggy dog that
 Who put his feelings on a pamphlet
 A pen unleash the dragon again uh
 Im on ya like hot grease on a skillet
 Gorillas on real tv because they feel us

 [Verse 2]
 I'm livin like a hundred in a jeep stolen
 Wools in sheeps clothng
 All beef frozen
 Bust like cheap trojans
 Nautrally rollin blunts and weed smokin
 We keep chokin
 Bitches on they knees open
 I spit like a automatic semi barking part
 And if you hear me starin blame the remmy martin
 So liquor shots ghetto people
 Dutches and c-lo's duckin the repo
 For fuckin them lady c-o's
 Rhymes blind devine (evol??)
 Smoked out in the cadillac regal
 With a mommy on my beecho
 Theres eight million stories
 Only six million ways to die
 Theres two million niggas getting away with crime
 Theres two million more whack niggas tryin to rhyme
 Now theres four million niggas tryin to eat at one time
 It keeps the thugs gunnin in the blood runnin
 And the judge frontin
 Enough to make nigga touch something

 [Chorus]
 Niggas fuckin with that strick-nine
 The models get mine
 So we gonna be big time
 Its ghetto buisness
 Niggas jack cars and rap stars
 Rockin the cash bars
 Bitches dancin naked on their lap
 Its ghetto buisness
 Niggas hold guns
 Hot ones steakin' the biscut
 Ghetto nigga soft cores is ghetto business
 Yo, drinks and weed son
 Never seeds son
 I got what you need son
 Its all ghetto business

 [Verse 3]
 Yo this is for the senile
 Walking on the green mile
 My lyrics be like the spirit of a teen gone wild
 Shit is after ten bitch wheres your child
 With a nine in his pocket lockin it down like penile
 I did the knowledge to born
 Your style straight corn
 I woke up in the morning
 Heard your shit and just yawned
 You fuckin up my high
 No lie
 You can die
 ??????????????
 Before i break you up like god
 Yo its the herb slinger
 New style bringer
 Rap is for my war plan
 Fat like Corporal Clinger
 We still bring the hardcore with r&b singers
 While the beast ask you out like hoes on Jerry Springer

 [Verse 4]
 Yo rally hot boys feel so sick
 And I won't stop 'til I'm so so rich
 While Y'all niggas spit
 I (WHOOO) blow hits
 Don't waste time
 And I don't waste rhymes
 Few minutes, shit
 Track done like swiss
 If you ain't hot come like this
 Real niggas hold a gun like this
 Pop something, one in your leg
 Make your ass run like this
 Now picture that
 Defeat rhymes never that
 Son son you brave
 You ain't a man cause you got a little something to shade
 I've been a thug since the sixth grade
 Rockin a fade
 Young Boomy
 Look what the ghetto done to me
 Made you bolder now
 Heart colder now
 Brick soldier now
 Gun holder now
 Nigga snath my chain, catch him hold him down
 Hit him with the hot slugs like over now
 I know you wanna test rock, what you waitin for
 I live one-thirty-eight basement door
 City up north you can't escape the raw
 Find me where channel live be at
 (What is this)
 Ghetto Business
 ----Beat Fades Out----

 [Rowdy Rahz Freestyle]
 You aint fin to blow up shit
 Youre merely a bomb threat
 How the fuck you gonna move a crowd
 You aint moved out from your moms yet
 I'm a vet, better yet a vet-er-an
 The words smith and wessun
 Like megatron
 Understand I'm past hip-hop
 I should be put into tiny ziplocks
 Distributed by those who flip rocks
 Leak use after word Smith b
 So dope you better sniff me
 And learn to keep me out ya mouth
 Get me
 I'm goin to Armaghetto swiftly
 My whole click be sickly
 So we don't sleep we spit in bed
 Those thats trying to get hit in the head
 Fuck around and get hit in the head
 Everything I write is either a death sentence or a blood line
 For those who love nines
 We don't stand in club lines
 We V.I.P
 Thugs love to hear me spit that
 If you ain't down with ghetto business
 THERE'S THE EXIT PUNK, HIT THAT