Lyrics:

Infamous life, yo
Know what I mean? Know what I mean?
Niggas don't know, son (They don't know, they don't know)
But I'ma let 'em know
You know? Yeah

Shit is real on the motherfucking hill, God
Times is hard, vision blurred, kid, I can't see far
Thinking, 'Will I be the next nigga deceased
Over some bullshit beef?' I pack heat
Son, it's '96 and I ain't going out like that
Never rolling dolo 'cause my crew got my back
And it's a fact, niggas don't know how to act
'Til I cock back the gat, leave 'em laying on they back
Sometimes I try to maintain and chill
Stop my brain from thinking, restrain from grabbing my steel
I'm stressed out, trying to live right on the wrong route
Thinking of ways to get loot in large amounts
So I chill on the block, nigga, respect mines
A giver with the MAC and the motherfucking TEC-9s
So pack steel if you come through, front if you want to
Before you do so, let me warn you
We more infamous, crime shit, take it to the gat
Fuck the rhyme shit, you reminded of what the nine did
Remanded, QBC, then left stranded
We cock cannons, punishing and back handing

In order to survive the game, know the game
Hold your name and let them niggas know
The way to win the war, attend the war
End the war and let your hammer go
In order to survive the game, know the game
Hold your name and let them niggas know
The way to win the war, attend the war
End the war and let your hammer go (Yo)

I'll leave your whole body twisted when you get lifted
And police'll have to fish to run ballistics on a biscuit
Another statistic, I tried to chill, but you insisted
Coming all in my district, I don't know why the fuck you'd risk it
I be one-deep, walking the streets, packing the heat
Bring the cow meat, get lifted of your feet and leave you sleeping on the concrete
Get blown at home or whatever zone you roam
Get two flown to your dome, blow chromosomes out your flesh and bones
Hitman for hire, who's the next one to expire?
Suited up in black attire, hit you up with rapid fire
The stainless biscuit will leave your brain smokin'
Your whole frame broken and clothes soakin', head blown the fuck open
Try to step inside of my fort and get caught
With the trey-pound short and left on the sidewalk in New York
To decompose, blood flows, hot holes in your clothes, eyes closed
Body be froze, posin' for pictures with a rose
Head to your toes, look like you got wetted with a hose
The road you chose got your brains drained through your nose, nigga
So who be committing crimes? Dangerous minds
Put two to your spine, lay you down behind enemy lines
When we cross it and leave you leaking like a broken faucet
The underworld production family, kid, we enforce it

Yo, when shit get real, it ain't what you expected
Me and my kickos is known to get hectic
Only to wreck shit, many slugs in all directions
Make you see the light when my shots makes connections
Niggas get their face split in section
Shook, using ice grilled looks for they protection
We absorb everything you fear
And indulge in a crime-filled atmosphere
This shit ain't nothin' new, it's only things that we used to
We used to stick niggas on the F through to
The E train, when it's time to recruit, I humble on the D train
See my man D only to purchase my cocaine
Word to my newborn seed
A nigga gotta make loot to support greed
On the wild side of the fence, the shit is on the verge of explosion
It's so cold, you might get frozen
If you leave yourself vulnerable and time lapsing
Fools collapsing and caught up in gun clapping
No matter who you are, if you know many faces
I don't discriminate, my shot bleed all races (Get that nigga right there, son, what up?)
And cultures, we sort of like vultures
Eating your insides like ulcers, it pulls niggas closer, nigga

In order to survive the game, know the game
Hold your name and let them niggas know
The way to win the war, attend the war
End the war and let your hammer go
In order to survive the game, know the game
Hold your name and let them niggas know
The way to win the war, attend the war
End the war and let your hammer go

Frankie Cutlass, uh, Mobb Deep, uh
G. Rap, Firing Squad up in the house, you know what I'm sayin'?
Keepin' it real for 718, uh, uh