(Scratches) Yo, check the mic, one two… This the Cairo hustle, G-Unit style…
A-A-Ahmed, slick mouth, smooth operator, low-key,
Joe right beside him, high as a kite, you know me.
Spinnin' yarns 'bout pharaohs' bling, untouched tombs,
Ancient whispers, sealed fates, playin' these fools for goons.
Network of lies, airtight scheme, confidence high,
Suckers lined up, ready to buy, reachin' for the sky.
"Ancient relics," Ahmed spits, like he seen 'em himself,
King's ransom, that's the wealth, stackin' that paper, no help.
Hustle's on, game tight, fortunes whispered, fortunes made,
Promise treasures buried deep, while their pockets gettin' paid.
Ahmed and Joe, devious duo, conjurin' illusions,
Joe, the young gun, learnin' the game, no time for confusions.
Plantin' rumors, spreadin' the word, artifacts unheard,
Targetin' the rich, the greedy, every single bird.
Forged docs, practiced lies, from Cairo to Luxor's gate,
Reputation risin', but that ain't gonna seal their fate.
Whispers turn to doubts, truth peekin' through the cracks,
How long can this charade last?  Before the whole thing cracks.
Ahmed and Joe, ridin' dirty, on a dangerous track,
Truth's a loaded gun, ain't no turnin' back.
Game's on, stakes high, 'til their empire starts to crumble,
Karma's a bitch, and these streets, they cold, they rumble.
(Gunshot) Word.