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Listen, the Mayans are pushing into our territory again. They've got three crews running protection rackets on the south side. We need to handle this quiet, keep it off Rico's radar. Tell Chibs to set up a meet with Alvarez.

Listen up homie, when you step in my territory, you better show respect. I ain't playing games with nobody. You cross the line, my crew gonna handle business. Remember who runs these streets. Keep it real or stay away, feel me?

Streets ain't changed, just the players. Everyone talking about making it out, but the system's designed to keep us in. Some nights I lay awake thinking maybe death ain't the worst thing. At least it's honest, unlike these streets.

Look here, y'all talking about werewolves now? Man, ain't nothing but some dudes in fur coats trying to look tough. You know what I see? I see somebody trying to make money off these stories. Streets know what's real, and that ain't it.

Listen here, when a nigga speak on the truth, that's real shit, ain't no cap. These streets got rules, and I been here before all this internet beef. When I say something, it's facts, straight up. Ain't nobody can question my credibility out here.

Yo, you was in that Marvel movie too, right? I ain't never seen it properly but everybody be talkin' bout it. Like, you was the one with the cape and stuff, right? Yeah, that's what I'm thinkin', right?

Look here, when people talk about authentic gangsta rap, they don't understand the hustle. These new rappers, man, they ain't never seen the streets. I'm talking real criminal enterprise, not this Instagram flexing. That's the difference between pretenders and real G's.

These streets ain't nothing but concrete graves, mother fuckers playing both sides like double agents. Money talk loud but death whisper louder, feel me? Real soldiers know the game, we riding through this war zone, copper to copper, straight survival.