I'm meetin up with the governor
3-2 and the Hillwood Hustla
Comin straight out the head though
From the brain representin my ghetto
Its a trip how they die young
In the hood in my Cadillac flyer, thru the 'Wood
Wit my homie Iatola in the Clover
Pink soda mind of a noter
Lean on my shoulder slang coca
20 g'z on my team Villanova
Blow marijuana in the sauna
While my niggas move dope on the corner
V-12 motor vida loca
Now your bitch trying to give me her panocha
Fat sweet roller in my trocka
And my girl called the cops cuz I choked her
Copa Cabana thankin Santa
For the keyboard that came wit the sampler
Turn up the Clarion wit the stelly on
She wit me cuz I am the champion
Its the same ol story though
Nigga died cuz he fucked wit the wrong hoe
Its the sign of the times man
By second thank God that I'm alive man
Peace to my dead g's
Fell short trying to stack up they benjis
In the midst and the fog
Boys wanna squab
All on my dick like corn on the cob
You aint shit but a job for one of my killer
How many niggas must die by the trigga
Im a sipper ima swerver first degree murder
Smoke a fried stick and get wetter than a surfer
No reversing my nature 90 pounds on my pager
I dont love you I dont hate you but I will misplace you
In the gutter for the fuck of it
Gangsta nigga chuggin shit candy on my mothership
And haters they can suck a dick
So this what it came to yall the same crew
Old friends Southeast niggas claim blue
But I dont gangbang I claim no color
She lost her son what if that was your mother
I sit back in my '92 blue 'Lac
And I support foundations like LULAC
I went to Alma in second ward offa Sherman
That was back when niggas jammin to Pee Wee Herman
Smokin with my teacher but not the preacher
I remember fuckin Liz on the bleachers
1986 wasnt making hits
I was chasing chicks having bad relationships
Now I fuck Asian bitches fine Haitian bitches
Romanian Italian some fucking bang delicious
I went from pain to rich and I remain malicious
Shoot em up and leave em laying in some strange positions