(feat. Tommy Whispers) 



[Intro: Trife Da God] 

Uh-huh, let's go, knowhatimean 

Lot of these muthafuckin' rappers 

Talking alot of bullshit on these tracks 

Youknowhatimean, they dry snitching, throwing indirect 

Well this what we gon' 'do, man 

We gon' flush all these rats out the system 

Knowhatimean, set a few traps 

Get they ass up out of here, yeah, yo 



[Trife Da God] 

For all y'all niggaz with them Nextels, chirpin' and bleepin' 

On them walkie talkies frontin', like y'all work for the precint 

10-4 niggaz claiming they hustlers, soon as they cuff ya 

In interrogation booths, y'all confessing like Usher 

Do the crime, do the time, that's the way I was taught 

And fuck surrending to jake, nigga, I'd rather get caught 

You got these niggaz on camera, frontin' hard with they team 

Wavin' they hammers, incriminating theyself on the screen 

Roleplaying, imitating some movie they seen 

That ain't gangsta, real gangsta niggaz generate CREAM 

And now you wonder why the FEDS come knock me, infiltrating the system 

Don't be suprised nigga, you let those cops in 

Plus the record labels is watching, you think they gonna sign you? 

You think they gonna put up that bread and get behind you 

Reality check, stupid, let me remind you 

All that try'nna push ya way through the door, deceased in 9-2 



[Chorus x2: Trife Da God] 

Yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta shit 

Go 'head and roll ya window down and crank that shit 

Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click 

My New York niggaz get money, and slam those bricks 



[Trife Da God] 

In the hood, I'm a Legend like John, I've never been harmed 

On the block shooting dice, holding bread in my palm 

Gatten Island niggaz, yeah we got a fetish for arms 

Berettas tucked in our leathers, strapped with terrorist bombs 

Shorties, running around with more Gunz than Corey 

Getting high off weed smoke, blowing your funds on forties 

You'll be amazed how these rappers try to run with stories 

This ain't a novel, muthafucka, this is guts and glory 

Pain and struggle, the game will crush you, it's a everyday hustle 

You want to eat, you better strain your muscles 

Hopeless martyrs, afraid when approached by mobsters 

With them grams, call me Sam the way I'm "coachin'" "carters" 

With starters, listen homey we can never be partners 

Don't get it twisted, handle business with my hands and revolvers 

The grown man, that'll touch up your wig, like beauty parlors 

Pop niggaz, like, how we pop bottles, you do the honors, nigga 



[Chorus x2] 



[Tommy Whispers] 

Spot you twenty points, and you still can't win 

You can't compare Grey Go' to gin, you too thin 

Ya'll niggaz is hubcaps fuckin' with big rims 

If the shoe fit, then your foot in my timb 

Masked up, hoodies and gems, I couldn't defend 

Your title small, a deuce-deuce next to a rifle 

The hackle'll snipe you, disconnect and dis-mic you 

Disrespect your rivals, have you dancing like Michael 

Moonwalker, uh-huh, platoon bark, goons in the dark 

Only lights from the spark, boom-boom in the parks 

Vocals in fumes from my darts, lead the roofs on the part 

Fuck up your happy home, daddy's back with a chrome 

Snatchin' ya throne, you mimicking, you actually cloned 

Finish him, I'm crackin' ya bones, diminishing 

Real terror, purple men, backed off pistoling 

Like them papies uptown, them hammers is whistling 



[Chorus x2] 



[Outro: Trife Da God] 

Uh, yeah, 718, criminal grind, Theodore 

Trife Da God, yo Slay, what up, my nigga? 

Tommy Whispers, Kryme Life, youknowhatimeansaying 

Money Come First, T.M.F. we getting money over here 

Gatten Island niggaz, knowhatimean 

Where the guns go off