Artist: Rubbabandz f/ Mali Boy, S.T.
Album:  New Jack City, Vol. 1: What the Streets Been Missin'
Song:   Where U From, Pt. 1
Typed by: Cno Evil

[S.T.]
We got gangstas, we got thugs, we got hoes, we got pimps
We got gators, we got fakers, we got lames, we got sips
We got green, we got brown, we got hard, we got soft
We got ep soap, soft pork, g-side, now I'm boss
We got stand-ups guys, straight g's and some crooked cops
Thirty six, bitch, manifested near the crooked rocks
We got the game flipping, looking like a salamander
We got Cadillac and Shawn Alexander
We got mid, we got 'dro, and we got plenty kush
Reggie blunts for the five, call it petty bush
I ain't scared to push, make ten twenty
Put ice on my grill, neck and pinky
We got niggas like Bandz coming from the top
To the bottom, set up shop, then make it pop
We got N.Y., little avenues and hunt fakers
And I got three words, muthafuck them haters

[Rubbabandz]
There's a million niggas in my projects, where I'm from
Stapleton, you an alien, hope you brought your gun
Never saw a four before, welcome to the bricks
Concrete jungle feel with killas and terrorists
Projects, tour the skyscrapers, block full of haters
Niggas gone on that PCP and will lay it down
This is N.Y.C., come around here
On that bullshit, you can get, stomped in the ground
With a fresh pair of Timbo's, anyway the wind blow
You can get thrown out of 30 story window
Now you a fall guy, what you get for fronting
Stuntman wit the drop, bet ya mouth start running
I grew up under gun slingers, finger on the ringer
I'm trigger happy, especially when I'm rolling on the river
You can bring about a hundred niggas, bet they get ran through
Cuz I'm Superman when my hand on the handle

[Mali Boy]
'Bama, muthafucka, yea that's where I reside
A damn thing to lose, but 'Bama I don't mind dying for
Y'all ain't put no work in, lord knows I tried those
Spit duke, fuck the dumb shit, nigga, I'm tired folk
Got it though, who the man, who the boss
Who the truth, who the false, don't get ya ass tossed
Alotta lotta died that come from out ya mouth
Who harder, who got the prider, come round here, I ring you out
Yeah, hoe, I handle ya, hoing ain't my character
Got issues, I answer ya, with pistols and predator
They scared of us, be prepared to bust, cuz it's on bitch
Give it up, them hammers out of luck, and you know this
No hocus pocus, it's real, something sick nigga
Look, I been 'Bama for some years, still is nigga
Hood in my veins, I'm dirty as it get
Ya'll niggas gon' leave the scene, now I'mma clear out this bitch