(feat. DJ Dutchmaster, Inspectah Deck & Saigon)    [Saigon]   On the average night, I'm likely to stab a fag with a knife   That's when I'm chilling, imagine when I'm mad what it's like   Damn right it's a disasterous sight   Why you think I've been in prison more than half of my life   My life, wolves, bloods and crips, duckin' the digs   We don't like basketball, but still fuck with the knicks   Dimes, twenties, fifties and bricks   Summer art though, if the bitch need a fix, it's triple the tips   Do whatever it takes, the fakes, I can never relate   Ya'll can chill as long as my cheddar is straight   But if I'm broke, shit, I'ma load the beretta with eight   Show y'all niggaz my gun game is better than great   Little crack baby, ignorant son of a black lady   Who never bothered to teach you cause the bitch was that shady   Recognize nigga, we can settle the score   Big Sai', Dutchmaster, we reppin' the raw     [Chorus: DJ Dutchmaster scratches up samples]   "Raw I'ma give it to ya" - U-God   "Down and so raw, a thousand grams of uncut cook it up - Biggie   "Raw I'ma give it to ya" - U-God   "R.A.W., watch us cook this hood shit"     [Inspectah Deck]   It's war, I want it all, man, nothing's enough   I'm on the chatline doubling up, cousin it's us   Pimpin' out the toy trucks, pumpin' the clutch   Smooth through on the graveshift, dump on you ducks   Above the law, still duckin' the cuffs, still fuck in the truck   I hold you hostage, corrupt with the bust   In the mean streets, stuck in the lust, never trusted in trust   When the pressure's on, perform in the clutch   When my hand deal, call it a flush, think I'm fallin', you nuts   Northern Lights rap, caught with the rush   Burn a big bud, tossing it up, flossin' is up   The raw with the big paw, ballin' with us   See my warface, the project halls is rough   With a satellite phone you couldn't call my bluff   Many runnings with jake, left my jaw to scuff   On some what, paper chasing, from dawn to dusk     [Chorus w/ "Raw without a doubt" as last line]     [Bekay]   Bekay's the reason that your label got a street team   The definition of a street dream, listen to the streets scream   The game made the pain, I'ma bring longer   But I'm like Magic with AIDS, what don't kill you make you stronger   Corny chickens, my dick, whores be licking   Fifty pound loads, to they jaw, they sipping   And anything I'm rhyming on, will spit flames to the roof   Like gonorrhea dick, pissing with a condom on   Had to do these slugs, locked in cutie's butts   Dip my balls in vodka, I'm absolutely nuts   Whose gonna spit, bruise in your clit   If you nice on the mic, I'ma put screws in this bitch   Your big fucking mouth just had a violent start   More kids know my name than Mike Jackson's private parts   Fuck your roster, my click burn labels   Dutchmaster scratch your fuckin' face off with a turntable     [Chorus 2X]