Listen up kids as I spit the Parkersburg freestyle
Let you know about my city for a little while
Grimeyville, that's where I be, we the East Side *****s
Well, there ain't no we, only me, but I still pulla triggas
There's the South Side fakers, talkin' about they can't be touched
"TRU" my ass, too bad they didn't see the red light on the Mike I clutched
Them North Side cats know how to spit, and I ain't talkin' about rhymes
The only thing the North Side Cartel spit is hot rocks from their nines
But on the real, the rest of the North Side is untrue
Some of them get alot of respect, but all of it's undue
When TRU and 304 go to war, it's like watching a couple mom's bake off
Because at the first sign of trouble, both those wannabe gangs take off
But the PKB ain't all bad, some of it's hood
Some real mother****ers here and there, tryin' to keep it good
But all the real cats out here know when DSG or NSC are around
To keep their mouth closed, 'cause we might pull the fo' pound
**** ain't always violent though, we try to maintain a little peace
But there's always some kid that ain't know my soul's on lease-
-To the devil, and if the kid steps out of line, he's gonna get his **** sprayed
Even if it's only because I need to rob the mother****er, still gotta get paid
Everywhere we go, every time the guns blow
Our presence is felt, cowards get their death cards dealt
Real *****s respect our turf, 'cause they know they could lay in the dirt
Now that's the end of the PKB flow, so get the hell outta here ho