Pull up to your spot on low
Shine brighter than all of they
Cause if I gotta make a move dog
This door marked private this
It's Mos Def what you call
Is they what you call gangster, hell no
They get a little pinch and go
They all talk fast and they all think slow
I'm Mos Definite, not think so
Flood your city with the black ink flow
So, stop with the nonsense,
I'm just awake dog, I'm doing great dog
Get it straight or get the fuck
I'm like the second plane that
made the tower's face off
That shit that let you know
it's really not a game dog
I'm the catalogue, you the same song
So cool and old school like eight-four
The The one your little mami
The name that real niggas
Me and Mini got your block
To the streets, to the beats
The workers, the killers,
The quiet, the livest, the realest
Don't push me cause I'm close
To the edge, back, middle, and front
Strong back shit lifting it up
From the big and the small
I'm like J. Brown getting involved
And when I'm letting off a round
Have your preacher man speaking
Tell a wild cowboy not to
Before they find out the town
It's a real bad way to get
Pouring liquor on the day
Buying paint to put your face on a wall
there's no need for all that
It's all good, we all here, going all out
All live, all day, listen when the song say
To the streets, to the beats
The bitches, the niggas, the women,
The workers, the killers,
The quiet, the livest, the realest
To the edge, back, middle, and front
Strong back shit lifting it up
From the big and the small
I'm like J. Brown getting involved