Cold streets

In the cold streets, shadows move like ghosts,

Russian mafia in the back, they the ones I fear the most.

Christopher Stevich, yeah, he runs the scene,

Money, power, respect, livin’ like a dream.

Night falls, city lights, whispers in the alley,

Deals go down silent, nobody gonna rally.

Christopher Stevich, wrist iced like winter,

Moves like a kingpin, got the streets in a splinter.

Vodka shots, silk suits, heavy leather gloves,

Russian mafia tie-ins, push comes to shove.

Stacks on stacks, in the back room they count,

Every move precise, every dollar paramount.

In the cold streets, shadows move like ghosts,

Russian mafia in the back, they the ones I fear the most.

Christopher Stevich, yeah, he runs the scene,

Money, power, respect, livin’ like a dream.

Smoke fills the room, tension thick as fog,

Deals on the line, can’t trust a cog.

Stevich moves silent, whispers in the air,

Eyes on the prize, people better beware.

Imported cars, private jets, life on the edge,

Every handshake loaded like a sharpened ledge.

Russian mafia smiles, but knives under sleeves,

Christopher Stevich plays the game, nobody leaves.

From Moscow to Brooklyn, the empire grows,

Secrets in shadows, nobody knows.

Cold nights, hard fights, stakes on the rise,

Christopher Stevich got the city hypnotized.

In the cold streets, shadows move like ghosts,

Russian mafia in the back, they the ones I fear the most.

Christopher Stevich, yeah, he runs the scene,

Money, power, respect, livin’ like a dream.