Llyod Banks:   America welcome to the land of the brave   America welcome to the land of the slaves   where to do anything for money the consequences is the cage   follow the path of a dummy hop a fence into their grave   you can either live to regret or benefit from your ways    the enemies get what they deserve the innocent get the strays   everything aint all gravy baby niggas are subject to change   and it gotta be the paper cause niggas is acting strange   I wake up to (momma missing? ) head throbbing heart full of rage   Urine dirty from haze as strong as thirty grenades   when it comes to ammunition its thirty thirties and K's   and them treys hold me down like that du-rag that's on your waves   America welcome to the land where they kill    America welcome to the land where they steal    where niggas will call your bluff till you let them know shit is real   where material shit will make bitches head over heals   where drama appeals to most of the kids so they watch   where they shoot at cops and most little niggas don't know they pops   where peer pressure comes on you smoke weed get bent to be cool   where the girls loose there virginity in elementary school   where the ambulances are late club floors get left with stains   over step on sneakers and "nigga what set you claim"   where niggas are ghetto fabulous billings and nice whips   where cops will fuck you up with flash lights and night sticks   America welcome to the land where they frame you   America welcome to the land where they hang you   where it doesn't pay to live with out sin or be an angel   and a regular day of just chillen a bullet can rearrange you   where niggas will back stab you the first time they get the chance to   the envious ways of a coward will do nothing but amp you   I'm from South Side Jamaica where comics and stars are born   where you can wake up in the morning and your brand new car is gone   where niggas that you grew up with is speeding and smoking crack   play Russian roulette with their dreams and there is no way to get them back   where the hood rats will surround you, the constant trade on the stack   its kind of hard to keep your cool when there is constant hate on your back      Llyod Banks: (Chorus)   New York City that's where I stay   where everyday is foul play    we got ours so you should have yours   cause it'll be no warnings when its time to go to war   New York City that's where I'm from   I got my vest, I got my gun   And you should run if you aint got one   cause it'll be no warnings for them niggas, wars come         Tony Yayo:       A yo Banks, let me shine      I got Timberwolves in Minnesota    and got them New York Knicks up in that baking soda, homie   I cross over with rugers in Vancouver when its Grizzly    And I'll Portland Trail blaze ya if ya ass don't hit me   You'll get shot in your Cavs in Cleveland and start bleeding    And now you're on the bench and can't ball all season   Yo I'm rolling Phillies up with the 76's    and got my Heat in Miami on the beach with my niggas   And them hoes from Atlanta is Hawkin' cause they see them    Denver Nuggets on my neck while my ass is walking   Stash the burner, Now I'm in Phoenix Sun   Cause I'm a Golden State Warrior that stay on the run   I'm in the truck counting up Milwaukee Bucks    And I, stay with the ratchet cause that's what's up   I got a Wizard in DC that chef up O's    So I'm living like a King in Sacramento   When I'm out in Chicago I'm on some Bullshit    You know semi automatics I stay with a full clip   For them Houston Rockets   baby nine in my pocket   Hypnotic and bomb chronic    lounging with the Sonics   I'm that nigga that will Los Angeles Clip ya    slow your Pace in Indiana while you counting them figures   You I'm out in New Orleans "wodie" ducking them warrants   You'll get stung by my mac like a batch of Hornets   Times up like the San Antonio Spurs    I got rings like a Laker but move Celtic birds   Disappear like Magic- Dallas Mavericks with the gat   I'll Detroit piss on you while your lying on your back   Strip shorty out her bra you know I get ass   Cause the kid big ballin' like the Utah Jazz   Toronto Raptor style Ya is a vet   I move like a Net so Cut that check