Lyrics:

(Blood spillin in the streets!) The what?
(Blood spillin in the streets!)
(Blood spillin in the streets!) The what?
(Blood spillin in the streets!)

(Journalist)
Yo, With two precise niggas, holding the right biscuits
There'll be a lot cats leaking out their life liquid
Niggaz who acting hard this ain't Columbia Pictures
When we throw two in your ass while you huggin on your mistress
From Philly, with cats quick to mute you at
Cuckoo cats, twist back your Fubu cap
Crucial, black, two chicks to screw you at
Then they shove a poolstick where you doodoo at
While you checking on your pagers, weapons in your faces
Shot blazing, cops section off the pavement
Hopping out with gauges, prepare for the occasion
We throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in
Mouthing off, faking will make you a ?mouth? patient
Aching, with your arms in a alcohol basin
And while your brain's aching, I'ma have your dame slaving
Cocaine and apron, over a flame baking

(Journalist) Niggas take it for granted -
Until they layin dead on the granite
(Canibus) Innocent bystanders gett shot by standard
(Journalist) Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon
(Both) Or y'all be checkin' for leaks -
Niggas'll have your blood spillin in the street

(Journalist) Niggas take it for granted -
Until they laying dead on the granite
(Canibus) Innocent bystanders getting shot by standard
(Journalist) Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon -
Now you laying deceased
(Both) Niggas'll leave your blood spilling in the street

(Canibus)
Can you feel it? Nothing can save ya
'Cause this is the season of infra-red laser
And since I got time, what I'm going to do
Is show you how you can get spotted by one too
'Cause I don't give a fuck, I just cock back and bust
With more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough
I fuck around and pull eight out
Blast your face off, or blow your brains out, nigga I leave you laid out
Then I pull the gat in my waist out
Put it in your mouth and keep squeezing till the whole clip is sprayed out
Take the gun in my ankle-brace out
Shoot you in the stomach till I see the last meal you ate drain out
Your face looks spaced out, I gut you like a trout
Scream my name out, while I'm scrapping your ribcage out
Squeeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex
Bullets buzzing by your head like insects
From your head to your mid-sec
And I ain't even shoot you in your legs, or your limbs, or your dick yet
Your masculinity is questionable; you probably a homosexual
Just the thought of having a woman laid next to you probably threatens you
You probably look at grapes and see testicles
You probable fantasize about vegetables like cucumbers and bananas having sex with you
And you probably let gerbils crawl up your rectum too
Shame on you, I defecate on you and simultaneously urinate on you
Pour some acid-rain on you
I stop your heartbeat with heat
You weak, nigga, I leave your blood spilling in the streets

(Verse 3 - Canibus + Journalist)
Aiyo Journalist what you working with? Old school burners with
Barrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit
What you holding Canibus? 30 bulllet banana clips
Just to handle a kick I gotta glue it to my hands and shit
We got permits to murder shit
We critically injure niggas who deserve the shit, put 'em in a tourniquet
Bomb proof Suburbans with track to tread size?
So we can ride through the dirt with it, Drive over curbs with it
Murken it, even over slippery surfaces, we can swerve in it
And crash into niggas who don't insert their shit
Try stopping it dudes, you gotta be bruised
Cocking the tools and knock you out your socks and your shoes
We'll leave you shoeless and keep shooting
Look how much life liquid you losing, you need a blood transfusion
In the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut
While we holding our weapons up, I'm still repping Philly, what?

(Blood spillin in the streets!) The what?
(Blood spillin in the streets!)
(Blood spillin in the streets!) The what?
(Blood spillin in the streets!)

... The what? ... The what? ...