I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
[Chorus]
This is ghetto warfare, heavy metal warfare.
Prepare, get on your post and stand clear.
If you start it, defend it, start it, we'll end it.
We're highly recommended, listen, this is
Ghetto warfare, heavy metal warfare.
Prepare, get on your post and stand clear.
The Brownsville sluggers, about to attack...
Bring it back, yo I'm tired of you herbs
Gettin' on my nerves,
Pretendin' to be drug dealers, and killers.
You fold up, hold up, let me ease the grip
So they can jack talkin' 'bout how many keys you flip.
Your sleeves get ripped off for that bracelet you rockin'.
This lil' nigga get to poppin', pistol grippin' and cockin'.
[Cuz nine times outta ten] I'm guaranteed to leave you stragglin'
Plus I bag emcees that's babblin'
I ain't tryin' to hear ya,
But I'm about ready to ear ya out,
Get the gats and clear ya out
'cause you's a part-time felon, kid killing yellin'.
[Before I send a slug through your melon]
I'm a basket case, don't make me bash your face.
[You sittin'] I'm sittin on chrome, like Masta Ace.
It's live nigga, no jive, hear the guns blast.
I be wreckin' like the fuckin' Jamaicans at Sun Splash.
[It ain't where you from] It's where ya at
And where you be at times, you don't have your fuckin' gat.
So chill with your riff raff, your bitch staff
Is some new cats, living in NEW JACK CITY!!
[Chorus]
Yo what the fuck is the deal? Here comes a new generation of rap dudes,
[With fake attitudes] That refuse to play by the rules.
It's a shame the way they be dissin' the game.
They fantasize, then go to something I would tell lies.
[These fake thugs] Replace slugs that's have three to nigga.
[Actin' like he want it] No one want to see my niggas
[Firing Squad] Still firing, fuckin' wit old timers;
Wit rhymers ready to come out of retirement.
Stoppin your traffic, a classic,
Puttin' you bitch ass niggas in caskets [you lil' bastards]
Don't know this rap shit, get this:
My family is ready to lynch, and roll before all you devils and sins.
[Raw breed] Indeed, we proceed to give you what you need,
You way out of your motherfucking league.
It's the, warpath, O.G. staff;
Ambidextrous and I'll tear your maggot ass in half.
My family don't give a fuck about you.
How 'bout I, jump up and smack the shit out you?
[Get at 'em] Took you down the Firing Squad committee,
Wit' no pity, detonating this NEW JACK CITY!!
This is ghetto warfare, heavy metal warfare.
Prepare, get on your post and stand clear.
If you start it, defend it, start it, we'll end it.
We're highly recommended, listen, this is
Ghetto warfare, heavy metal warfare.
Prepare, get on your post and stand clear.
The Brownsville sluggers, about to attack...
Bring it back, yo I'm tired of you herbs
Gettin' on my nerves,
Pretendin' to be drug dealers, and killers.
You fold up, hold up, let me ease the grip
So they can jack talkin' 'bout how many keys you flip.
Your sleeves get ripped off for that bracelet you rockin'.
This lil' nigga get to poppin', pistol grippin' and cockin'.
[Cuz nine times outta ten] I'm guaranteed to leave you stragglin'
Plus I bag emcees that's babblin'
I ain't tryin' to hear ya,
But I'm about ready to ear ya out,
Get the gats and clear ya out
'cause you's a part-time felon, kid killing yellin'.
[Before I send a slug through your melon]
I'm a basket case, don't make me bash your face.
[You sittin'] I'm sittin on chrome, like Masta Ace.
It's live nigga, no jive, hear the guns blast.
I be wreckin' like the fuckin' Jamaicans at Sun Splash.
[It ain't where you from] It's where ya at
And where you be at times, you don't have your fuckin' gat.
So chill with your riff raff, your bitch staff
Is some new cats, living in NEW JACK CITY!!
[Chorus]
Yo what the fuck is the deal? Here comes a new generation of rap dudes,
[With fake attitudes] That refuse to play by the rules.
It's a shame the way they be dissin' the game.
They fantasize, then go to something I would tell lies.
[These fake thugs] Replace slugs that's have three to nigga.
[Actin' like he want it] No one want to see my niggas
[Firing Squad] Still firing, fuckin' wit old timers;
Wit rhymers ready to come out of retirement.
Stoppin your traffic, a classic,
Puttin' you bitch ass niggas in caskets [you lil' bastards]
Don't know this rap shit, get this:
My family is ready to lynch, and roll before all you devils and sins.
[Raw breed] Indeed, we proceed to give you what you need,
You way out of your motherfucking league.
It's the, warpath, O.G. staff;
Ambidextrous and I'll tear your maggot ass in half.
My family don't give a fuck about you.
How 'bout I, jump up and smack the shit out you?
[Get at 'em] Took you down the Firing Squad committee,
Wit' no pity, detonating this NEW JACK CITY!!
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
New Jack City Lyrics as written by Eric Murry Christopher E Martin
Lyrics © Royalty Network, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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