Stephen Patrick McCabe II of Charlestown, Mass.
Where all the Irish boys do, is count "found" cash.
Know that through and through, we are some sound ass cats.
Cause from the day we grew, we been so bound in class.
But not the school you knew, this be "The Town"s trash pass.
Something you get into, thinking you "down" at last.
Feeling like brand new, but you're just a new jackass.
Yet you better make-do, cause there aint no by-pass that.
Next comes ya debut, it's usually a combat scrap.
There ain't no kung-fu, this is a street cat clash.
You quick to make-do, put him down, splat, down flat.
They say that ya preview, might have you blast up fast.
Those words were damn true, I thought my ass burned gas.
But if I only knew, some of them glass ass rats.
I thought the crew was glue, but yet the pack done crashed.
Only a few choose to screw, and start running their fat ass trap.
No choice, I flew the coop, and never went back, thats fact.