Aiyo, back in '95 when I was jugglin' bitches
Pumpin' coke out the spot, smackin' fiends in the kitchen
All around dick sucks whenever, blowin' chronic out of Philly's
Gettin' flusty in the Cub' Link era
Niggas tellin' me my spot is hot
They like I think any day now, playboy, shit gon' pop
Back then I was the phat Ghost, them came March 1st
My eighth platoon got murked, got burnt for all our work
After the funeral, I played low, countin' my last ten g's
Three weeks later, yo, I'm back in the P's
Gatherin' up information, checkin' faces
Keepin' a forty-five auto' loaded like it was bases
When it get dark, venom will leave my mark (over)
I heard a voice through a bullhorn, a white man he said "Yo, Starks!
You're surrounded, put down your gun, look at the rules
There's nothin' but cops, nigga, you better not run"