{Melachi The Nutcracker}
  Aiyo, New York tracks, keep me phat like that
  I exercise with fitness, to support my back
  It's going on black, and I'm out to get mines
  Bust in the place with a New York rhyme
  Yo some people are mindless, and don't know what the time is
  Mess around with the wrong one, and get expired
  I'm gettin fired, offa the smoke and the blunts
  Killin big bids offa a gangsta hunt
  Don't front, what do you want? I push a trick with a stunt
  We got out of town hits, and like George likes Pits
  Cuz I flex with a Polo around my wrist
  Nothing changed...
  
  {Lil Dap}
  Uh, my bad decision in the game got me flippin on cats
  Now that I'm back, puttin Brooklyn down on the map
  Cuz you know this camera's on me, and my sons right now
  Pimpin our sounds, watch how we Tear Shit Down
  I cause blow a catastrophe, I master thee
  The game of rap, so don't fuck with Dap, I dance with my track
  You bust you neen, I bust my nena back
  Rhymes sharp like thumbtacks, with enough contacts
  To blow my enemies off the map, If they try to attack...
  
  Chorus 2X: Lil Dap
  
  Oh Sweet America, how could it be?
  Can't see my people dying in the streets no more
  Got to hustle from the bottom just to feed the poor
  Understanding what's right, realizing what's wrong
  *(second time, the last line gets left out)*
  
  {Melachi The Nutcracker}
  Yo I salute the mic, when I take flight
  Plus my styles real hype, and I'm feeling allright
  So go with the flow, let's see what all of you know
  I flip like G.I. Joe, with mad potential
  I'm about to get mine, you know it's about that time
  My people losing their mind, off the Group Home rhyme
  Murdering crime, people on the streets playing for keeps
  Brand new jeeps, riding thru on the creep
  Who care? I guess that everyone is scarred
  Better be preparred, cuz the worst is near
  The Group Home is here, open your ears and stand clear
  Crack your bears, we've been doing this for years
  
  Chorus 2X
  
  {Lil Dap}
  How could it be? Cuz if you bust for me, I have to bust for you
  These old school rules, got me spittin lyrics at you
  I'm thinking hard and serious and going back to the time
  When cats were scarred to death to even say that they rhyme
  Cuz it was off the meters, niggas had to throw their dick beaters
  Block parties with heaters, no crooked to feed us
  It's 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year
  But between the nonsense we'll drop a jewel this year
  Keep your eyes open, stoppin off the ends when we rock
  Poppin your clutch, and starving mc's to rock
  And walk with fear, keepin my momentum in gears
  Excess is near, my niggas can smell it in your ear
  2000 and beyond, Group Home are bombing ya, son
  My crew number one, no competion
  
  Chorus 3X