I am the sound of semis’, horns so bold
I am the hard metal benches, seas so cold
I am the dribble on the B-ball court, seats of gold
I am the fist that’s thrown, enemies’ bodies fold
I am the streets

I am the frantic feet, running through the hood
I am the jungle of concrete, that replaces the jungle of wood
I am the whites, blacks, evil, and good
I am what I can be, and not what I should
I am the streets

I am the pollution in the air
I am the people in the city, walking with every worldly care
I am Harlem, with its luminescent flair
I am the ghetto, naked and bear
I am the streets