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Say what you wanna say.

I can read your face; you're gonna anyway.

Where d'you suggest I go

When this dirty street's the only world I know?

I got a concrete yard; I got a concrete sky.

I got a neon tree, seven storeys high.

I got a methamphetamine skin disease;

I got a 9 mm and I do as I please.

Why I'd wanna be like you?

Not a thing you know, that I wish I knew.

Be a man like the men in the movie shows,

Like my man Frank Lucas and the Correleones.

Get a Coupe de Ville, fine bitch, fine threads.

Get 'em now, right now, 'cause I soon be dead.

Say what you wanna say.

I can read your face. You're gonna anyway.