(feat. Master P. and 2pac)
[Verse 1:]
Ghetto n***as remain violent while the k**ers remain silent
n***as strapped with 45's and ain't smiling
And I'm driving to a place they're all warrin'
the lake we build houses but its the hood we call home
In the ghetto the only place a motherf**er will keep it real
we focused on the dollar bill, still
The outsiders tend to disrespect the place
where n***as do thier struggling die with a straight face
Surviving, under conditions demons dinin'
you can run it but can't hide it so step aside
Its the n***a that makes music for the streets
cause I love this motherf**er like p**y with no sheets,
cause its deep
Some n***as make it out the neighborhood and won't surface
and let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose?
A motherf**er sitting on fat
he came up in the hood but he can't come back
f** that, I remain in the street game frame
on a mission to maintian me and take aim
In position to let my opposition know my life
cause off in these streets I keep it real but what's right?
Surviving, sitting on a key doing business on a beeper
I'm sinking in this motherf**er deeper
Fear the reaper that no man born or woman harm me
f** being a n***a in your army; though I'm a k**er
Enter the ghetto so that you can see
what I mean when I say I love this cause it love me
Let it be, stop looking at this motherf**er strange
and talking 'bout a motherf**ing change
This is for my thug n***as
[chorus x6]
This is for my homies and my thug n***as (uuuuugh)
[verse 2]
'Face, picture us working at McDonald's
and me and you selling f**ing toasted up (?)
Gold slug, a car full of thug n***as
twenty inch wheels candy paint so we drug dealers
No Limit soldiers to the fullest
see I was raised on some red beans the size of some bullets, huh
We ghetto n***as can't be stopped
got me mixing up dope with little J down at Rap-A-Lot
My phone tapped the feds on my tail
got me paying luxury taxes on everything I build
True to the ghetto that's my life
you see that house on the lake its for the kids and the wife
You can test me if you wanna
cause I be dumping n***as off from New Orleans to California
Rowdy like a hurricane (uuuuuugh)
independant, black owned got them hooked on this c**aine
You used to see C in a suit and tie
but we young n***as in tennis shoes and diamonds
Executive street millionaires
n***as gonna be bout it bout till we gray in the wheel chair
[Chorus x6]
[Verse 3:]
What do you get from boosting?
n***as coming out from california to represent them n***as from
Houston
And now we rocking keep this sh** popping
and all my n***as across the bay know L.A. keep the sh** hot
I keep my glock inside my pants , dont give n***as a chance
to put me inside a casket you dirty ba*tards
Until the day I die you catch a n***a high off weed the police can't
find me
My sh** will drop and I'll sell five million
while all the n***as enter the game get caught up in drug dealing
How can I fall? how can I ball, how can I catch my enemies and murder
them all?
My word of flame burn n***as inside thier brain
n***as can't hang with me, and like it changes, uh
Scarface got me on this sh**
we laced it motherf**ers in thier body and face, uh
Growing thicker, liquor made me daddy and n***a
n***as don't wanna see me world wide mob figure
M.O.B. and the leaf keep me weeded
them n***as don't wanna see me when i got weed in my system
Catch another victim, capture bodies
bring a shottie to the f**ing party, yeah
I party all night
I do this sh** cause its wrong but we were born right
And to the n***as in my zone we do it long ways
'till these b**hes understand n***a my song pay; cause I'm the man
Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die
keep this sh** rough and raw my 45
Make sure that I survive to another day
to bust rhymes which from I get paid
Now that's the end of my freestyle but it was left for dead
but the sh** away you can hear it playing, westside
[chorus x8]