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 cant 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 its more sickening than Ebola   Until they handcuff then its 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