[ VERSE 1 ]  Well I'm known to wreck a mic like a prince, so all hail  To the raw deal, on a scale your style's frail  I don't believe I can fail, cause I'm headstrong  You're trackin me, plus jackin me knowin that you're dead wrong  I got a Tec for those that wanna step  You're ghost, cause since you're playin me close you're gettin checked  And I can't conceive a better way to do it  So when you're in my comp, get ready to be stomped, there's nothin to it  Cause I got piles of wicked styles and files of tracks  I get wild with a South Bronx style of rap  So you think you got rap sewn happily?  How's that: you couldn't sow shirts in a factory  You're what I label as a hip-hop hypocrite  You smile in my face, behind my back runnin off with lip  But I got somethin to kill that, though  I'm a real rap pro, bad bro, so now you know    (The TR 808)  (Straight, straight from the Bronx)    [ VERSE 2 ]  Now back to the scene of the crime  I was taught to bust a nine  At any and all who's outta line  Yo, that's the way I was shown how to hold my own  Until I found other ways on the microphone  I used to see so many out on the ave. die  Strung high, playin a game, and that's why  So many up in the Bronx, they got done  For livin a lifestyle of crime like it was fun  But now I'm hittin ya hard and pullin the cards  Of those that wanna act a fool, they got schooled  And got caught with a right to the mug  It wasn't enough, cause they wanted to bug and caught a slug  And got they bodies just laid to rest  Cause in the streets you gotta get all you can, and no less  The first minute you do, you get bucked  So you and your crew better duck  When you step into the Bronx    (The TR 808)  (Straight, straight from the Bronx)    Check it  I wanna take this time  To send this out to my man Dino  And to my man Scott-La-Rock  Cause if it wasn't for them  I wouldn't be here today  But since I'm here  I'ma continue to make funky music for my brothers  You know what I'm sayin?  I'm outta here  Peace!