### [90s Boom Bap Beat, Gritty NY Vinyl Scratch, Hard Heavy Drums] ### [Intro] [DJ Scratching] Yeah. Live from the concrete jungle. Harlem streets, 125th, you know how we do. No fake gangster stories here, kid. Just pure, unadulterated hip-hop. Check the pedigree. Yo, drop that needle. ### [Verse 1] I rose from the gutter, zero dollars in my Champion hoodie. Project steps, winter nights, looking dark and muddy. Niggaz on the corner screaming, "Cop a pack and flip it!" But I had a bigger vision, knew the trap and skipped it. I watched the hustlers fall, watched the block bleed out. Federal indictments, that ain't what I'm about. No blood on my Timberlands, no stains on my name. Don't need a state bid just to run this game. You talk about your triggers, but your bars are hollow. I spit that raw medicine that you can't swallow. No dirt in the past, my conscience is pristine. While you dodgin' the feds, I'm keeping it clean. Real Harlem mentality, Apollo state of mind. Pure lyrical homicide, leaving pretenders behind. ### [Chorus] [Aggressive Vocal, East Coast Boom Bap Style] Came from absolute nothing, but the heart stays clean! No blood on my hands, kid, you know what I mean! No dirt in the past, no ghosts in my zone! Harlem nights, raw power, sitting on the throne! You can easily be hard without a rap sheet, yeah. I shoot with my words, and my soul is all mine! ### [Verse 2] They claim they hit the block with the heavy artillery. But they crying in the bullpen, missing their liberty. I made my paper legal, built a fortress from prose. While you selling out your brothers, getting cuffed by the foes. No dirty money in my stash, no tears on my gold. No mothers weeping at the wake for a soul that you sold. I don't gotta look back when the sirens wail. My record is spotless, I ain't built for a jail. I'm sharp like a switchblade, flying Uptown high. Setting fire to the microphone, looking fate in the eye. Strip the fake facade, strip the studio lies. I'm the hardest in the five boroughs, watch a real king rise. ### [Chorus] [Aggressive Vocal, High Energy Scratching] Came from absolute nothing, but the heart stays clean! No blood on my hands, kid, you know what I mean! No dirt in the past, no ghosts in my zone! Harlem nights, raw power, sitting on the throne! You can easily be hard without a rap sheet, yeah. I shoot with my words, and my soul is all mine! ### [Bridge] [Beat Cuts To A Gritty Bassline and Crisp Snare Only] No handcuffs. No snitching. Just pure New York lyricism. You think you hard 'cause you boxed in a cage? Nah, son. Real power is stepping on this stage. Harlem bred. Born in the dirt, rose in the light. ### [Outro] [Classic NY Fade Out, Heavy Vinyl Crackle] Squeaky clean. Zero dirt. Just that raw Harlem grit. You don't gotta be a convict to rule the empire. Remember that. Word up. [Fade out]
