My Nubian ways'll get ass that open for days
Always gotta put a nigga to work, is how it seems
Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
I run with dem and others rock NY in colors
Your body might get left there, you better step to the rear
Proper backing with the bangers and the rhyme singers
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
The Wild Cowboy still got the style boy
Zig Zag Zig like Zorro now we makin' more bread than Stella Doro
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
Raised in the ghetto singin songs called survival
I'm only bringin' you the real
It's kinda hard to hear the silent screams
Publishers: EMI LONGITUDE MUSIC INC, RUSHTOWN MUSIC
Raised in the ghetto singin songs called survival
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, my man Primo hit me off with the plural
Whoever step to this better be at they best
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival'
It's like a federal crime, you had to settle for rhymes
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
Cut on the lights if she ain't a dime then watch me run like a roach
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called survival
Look at me close, I'm the perfect host you standin' too close
Underground so we dig in the dirt
Never known for spittin' trash shit on the mic, that shit's a zero
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
Make my approach then shorty's bagged like coach
We stay Fat like Joe Crack, Lord Jamar
It only take one bad nigga to ruin' it, pursuin' it
The great Datty in the C-Town Express
So tree up, nigga we up, about to re-up
I'm only bringin' you the real
Raised in the ghetto singin songs called survival
Through the violent things, turn a deaf ear
I need a meal, time to eats with a flow
Not even the triflest, nigga on Earth, could ever fuck
I'm on 110 and Lennox with these Africans overseein'
So back up, you should never try to act up
I'm only bringin' you the real
Unsung hero bring more heat than DeNiro
Make y'all get nuts like a cell block filled with dick beaters
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival'
Drop the beat, press it up, and hit the street, dinner time's complete
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
I'm only bringin' you the real
Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
With what I spit in a verse, we always hit where it hurts
Rhyme flow stay off the meter, tight like two-seaters
One of a kind I throw a helluva line
That lacked substance, we got that in abundance
Three sixty degrees I stand in the square, right over left
Make more chips than Frito Lays when I spit the phrase that pays
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival'
Whoever step to this is gonna have to face stress
Preparin' to fight to the death, you could never stifle this
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo
I run through obstacles, take off my shackles
And actin' like it can't happen put you in the chair
Y'all know my shit be hot they call me Dr. Doo-a-lot
Come too far, to ever try and go back
Now I got seeds so I'm stingy I keep strings on my Benji's
To the bookings we go on the twenty-four hour flow
With the straight brim and the chick who work in the gym
Our physical being and how we doin' it
You ain't heard us all together in several years
Songwriters: Willie James Clarke, G Dajani, Lorenzo Dechalus, William Brewster Dixon, J Gamble, Chris E. Martin, Derek Murphy, Clarence Henry Reid, D Ross
Y'all know the deal, grab this paper, disappear like Copperfield
Pro-black and you know that
We put it down with Premier, rock mad army gear
Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival'