V1...

The tactical way I get down
Crushing crowns
Brick by brick
You fucking with AHK now
From Buck Town
You betta duck down
Before I shut down – the city
Shit won’t be pretty
Why can’t you feel me
I’ll pull back quickly
And pop you like a wheely
Cracks in the ground
Filled with your blood
What a pity
Run for cover
Then yell when you see me
Fe Fi Fo Fumn’ niggaz
Smelling the pavement
Face dragged across the floor
On some old’ reckin the stage shit
For real
I'm telling the story of real niggaz
Who don’t conceal triggaz
Army over there in East New York
Ready to kill for me at

Break Neck Speed

V2...

Concrete Cinderblocks
I can’t see em no more
20 stories high
I use to watch them fall
from kitchen sinks
And shot up car doors
Headz up in the hood is
what we used to call
niggaz in the projects
Are still fucking bored
taggin on walls and
Pissin on floors
What you know about
shit never seen before
Unless you from the streets
you know That real hard core
Brooklyn is what I talk
Kings County is what I walk
All day reppin New York, New York
With the Wally’s on my feet
38 used to defeat
Changing laws busting you up
in your meat
now if you want to step
I might have to diss you
misplace you with know one left
to miss you
should've known better than
to fuck me
knocking you off at

Break Neck Speed

V3...

In the beginning
less the ending
I captured the speed
of sound and became
one voice, stimulating
my decision,
and my choice
to grab the microphone
tight with mad force
leaving the weak
behind and dry
unlike a cake that’s moist
its ahkmel pharod smooth
like a Rolls Royce
with plenty of power
steering as I foist
my skills upon those
not trying to rejoice
instead doubting me
like I’m in a band with some boys
come on muthafuckaz
you can kill that noise
I am more like a one-man team
with a one man dream
that will leap over your
whole self-esteem at

Break Neck Speed