Chorus: Treach. Till death do us, can't move us. We can rat-tat-a-tat-tat-a or build, it don't matter. Holler if you hear this, realness. Thugs gon' feel this, Brooklyn banger Jersey jackin.
Yo, yo c'mon son. Yo, they killin' 'em out there, son. They dyin' out there, son, word up. Yo they killin' us, son, I'm tellin' you. . why?all niggas c'mon that's my word.