One On One (from "Street Fighter" soundtrack)

In the Rotten Apple, take a bite, taste the worm
Embrace the world of reality we're faced to learn
Coke connection drug bust, graveyards where thugs rest
I keep my mug blessed, the evil is illegal substance sold
Roll mob deep, guns in the black Jeep
MAC-11's in Legends, cracks in the streets
Patroller, gold money-folder, gun happy soldiers
Never sober, taking over, my blood is colder
Niggas respect violence so I become it
I'm from it, I even done it blunted, so run it

Yeah, son, you know what this is
Take it off, (come on, dunn
Don't even come at me like that)
Dunn, come on, dunn)

Yeah, imagine this: no guns, no knife
It's a one on one so now we gots to fight, son
Imagine this: no gun, no knife
It's a one on one, now we got to fight, yeah
Yeah, imagine that, no gun, no knife
It's a one on one, now we got to fight, yeah
Yeah, imagine this: no gun, no knife
It's a one on one, son

Yo, I'm a cream fiend with a mean dream
Brain full of schemes, my crew's rolling fresh out the greens
Give you what you never seen, the infs on the MAC-10
It's 2:10 in the A.M. in the streets of Queens
Try hard and die hard
Chances of surviving the game is like trying to feed Allah lard
I walk at piece with a deadly shadow
They want to blow me with the double barrel, foul, no sorrow
I brawl with Blanka, caught Bison in the thinker, dome
Make hell your new home, with the blue chrome
Mid-State wants me, suave fellow but raunchy
The soul of a cold body haunts me, I flee the country
But only to shed tears for years
Too wild for my own self, hoping help is near
Street fighting was cool, but in school I brought a new tool
Dueling with the devil, a rebel, a fool

Imagine this: no guns, no knife
Just a one on one so now we gots to fight, son
Imagine this: no gun, no knife
Just a one on one, now we got to fight, yeah
Imagine that, no gun, no knife
It's a one on one, now we got to fight, yeah
Imagine this: no gun, no knife
It's a one on one, son
Yeah, take it to the bridge – Queensbridge

Yo, whassup money? (Yo yo, do you remember this face?)
(Yeah yeah yeah, run these, run these)
[*sounds of brawl*] (Break you down! Get broke!)
(No hands, run that, run that, run that, no hands)

I hear Jake walkie-talkies in my sleep
Marked money I keep, play the benches all week
I visualize Coups, alligators in suits
Elevators in my mansion that rises to the roof
Sipping 80 proof, watching Juice, but hold up
I see some brothers trying to roll up, wishing I could fold up
It's hard to see their faces in they hoodies, I better boogie
Too late, I tried to swing when they jigged me – I'm out

Yeah yeah, kid, don't front
360 degrees, know what I'm saying?
That's how it comes back at you
Queensbridge, that's how we live
South side, all that
New York, light it up, light it up
Yo yo, you saw how I snuffed that kid?
Yeah, I saw that, I saw that
Ain't no half stepping out here
That's how we do out here in the street fight!