School ya'll to somethin right quick

Sit down, open your ears, close your eyes, listen



Here's a little story that I got to tell

About this Chico named Pit everyone knows so well

Illmatic like Nas but that ain't hard to tell

Owes it all to Dade County and the ATL

Picked rap and skipped the triple beam scale

And it's a known fact he gon' die before he fails

These boys rap about hustlin' but can't make bail

I call that hustling backwards and that's real

Miami's hot so I can vacation in hell

The way the game is shit, man, I mind as well

I look at these fools on camera flashin' they tools

They must've forgot the streets got codes and rules

But me, I'm confused

'Cause rappers wanna be gangstas

Gangstas wanna be rappers

Ballers wanna be rappers

And rappers wanna be ballers

The truth is it's more sickening than Ebola

Until they handcuff then it's over

Pop up no dandruff, no neck, just head and shoulders

Bust guns, sell drugs, that's what the streets showed us

But corporate America, that's what they sold us