[Intro: Triggnomm (Itchy-Fingas)]
  Eh-yo yo son, come on come on
  We gotta hit this flight 304 today
  (Yo why these airline police keep watchin' me?)
  Fuck them, man, come on (Toy cops)
  
  [Naisha]
  I'm flyin on the Kennedy airline fog, the demon in me
  Street life of Benny, blunt go to Hiroshimi
  Custom mine, all broads be fresh in Versace
  Dwellin' on the daily, not me, sippin' on Nani
  In the splills, Jumanji, skies red like Blood Money
  Scramble my life fully, rockin' G.S. gulleys
  Under the moon light, sippin' fruit wine
  Float like fruit flies, dominate the skies, realize
  Keep your Nino's up high and notify this crime size
  Naisha in camouflage pistol-whippin' wise guys
  Supreme large, I pop you to the Heavens of all Gods
  To generate, C.S.G. all-stars, fuck it, let's take it back to mirage
  Street war stars, hate to bust my gun from afar
  The Messiah Allah, tote me shit from here to Hong Kong
  Naisha to bomb, sincerely the Don, blow holes all in your cranium
  Camaro S.S., rollin' up cess, a gun in your vest
  It's business, so the topic's at rest
  It's like Capone and Nes', 'nough powder to bless
  Lace it, divide the cut in, this fresh linen I soaked in it
  Soon arrive the endin', over the scrimmage
  Reptilian, King pinnin', y'all niggaz caught feelin's
  
  [Break: Triggnomm (Itchy-Fingas) {Naisha}]
  Yo yo (Yo yo yo, you feel that?)
  {Come on what's the deal?}
  
  [Chorus 2X: Naisha (Triggnomm)]
  It's kinda hard growin' up in these streets, you feel me?
  (Son it's hard rockin' killas to sleep) I feel you
  The twelve on the clock always symbolize you
  So be ready when them hands should just swing by you
  
  [Triggnomm]
  Back in the days, Daddy-O, he told me numbers don't lie
  What you gon' try, if I tell you bring me back seven-five?
  No shake on the raw, no chips off the rock
  Round the clock dough operate, low aggravate
  Cream Team's to set things straight
  Speakin' loud and clear, one point five a year, now we can go there
  Make it official, bring in the missles then bring the pistols
  Ain't satisfied 'til I hit you when I get you
  Crystal, when the beef was hot, should've bit you
  The ordeal, kill my taste buds and tranquil'
  Murderholic, I can't call it, I might spoil it
  Have your whole team in the court house, clean the toilets
  Got convicted, the judge says I'm crime addicted
  Rhyme explicit, supporters show signs and pickets
  Makin' me a statistic? Hated it and got away with it
  Livin' in this game of life, know how to play with it
  So you could die young, or live to see your grandson
  The greatest man alive was sacrificed for ransom
  
  [Chorus 2X]
  
  [Itchy-Fingas]
  Peep the mirage that I've spit when rhymes kick for the nine-ish
  We bomb then we stomp like the chinks in Saigon
  My two's sippin' on like Fairytalez with raw deal but it's all real
  We rock from Steel Wheel to Park Hill to Oak Hill
  Guard your grill, knuckle or what.. {*censored*}
  Put four in ya man gut, he tryin' to shine like King Tut
  Infiltratin' the operation'll cause devestation to the nation
  I'm prepared for what I'm facin' before y'all's the Tang and
  Shake game when I'm snatch that, wanna scrap? Where ya raps at?
  Wanna bang? Where ya gats at? Hiatus, why hate us?
  Heavyweighters, ghetto classics, iced out, fitted backwards
  Grey caskets, since they all stress, one day you'll rest
  Tomorrow never dies, we gon' start this off fresh.. this
  
  [Chorus 2X]
  
  [All - repeat to fade]
  It's kinda hard, money, it's kinda hard
  It's kinda hard, money, it's kinda hard
  
  [Outro: Triggnomm (Naisha)]
  It's kinda hard (gettin' money)
  it's kinda hard, it's kinda hard
  It's kinda hard growin up
  Naisha, Triggnomm.. (it's kinda hard puttin' killas to sleep)
  It's kinda hard.. that's how it is
  (M.M.O, Deadly Venoms, K.G.B.) Triggnomm (A.T.L.)
  It's kinda hard gettin' food to eat
  The foundation (what?) M.M.O. (M.M.O.)