Lyrics
Yeah, ok
It goes one for the money, two for the bass
Three for the homies, pray they never catch a case
Can't think for myself, gotta think for the team
Sir, Rambunk, Doughboy, and Nick Bean
Lil L too, and hear the J3
Can't forget about Y, it's a swave 'til he free
It's a goddamn shame what they let through the door
Said his numbers goin' up fast, but do he got soul?
Do he got bars? Do he got heart?
From the outside lookin' in, he just look like a mark
I don't ever do the gimmicks, I can only play my part
We wasn't rappin' in the park, we was brackin' in the park
Still put it on the mic 'cause I been active from the start
Back when "Heads Up" was boomin' and grams went for twenty
I copped ounces for mean green just to get a lil' money
Recordin' in the G, must I'm real P Funk, nigga
Yeah, even my ratchet's gorgeous
Thuggin', livin' enormous
Hundred thousand in shoes sittin' in storage
Yeah, new thang thicker than porridge
Like the cappuccino kush, then I orbit
Yeah, buildin' this team like a foreman
Yeah, fed teams off my recordings
Westside Pirus is my origins
Gotta GPS me for my coordinates
Stay sharp, outdueled all the swordsmen
Flower child, never took no shots
'Cause we used to hit Clark's moms good with the forgin'
Like they ain't stickin' nothin' in my baby
Niggas want the beef, I'm on top it like it's gravy
Child support due, I'm outside with it daily
Thuggin' with my dog, soul, where's the catch rabies?
C kept the gaugey, K had the handguns
Lou had the knockouts, Bird had the apron
Cookin' up the plan, told me daily
One day you'll be the man, just hit 'em with the slams
K with the boys, went little with the bams
My day ones know he spit flame to the shams
No scam when he rockin', Paris to Amsterdam
Bang in this Compton, ain't got a option
Raisin' his stock and holdin' his weight
Comfortable when his foes in his face
'Cause I know I got the power at any hour
To get you and your homeboys erased, woo
Killers on standby, let the jams ride
Word to Cam'ron, nigga fly where the camera
I'm a rare vibe, religious to who I stand by
Who I stand with, keep drums, check the bandwidth
This a canvas, who goin' harder in the paint, bro?
Wheels on the wallet, nigga, check the way the bank roll
Lot of niggas bowed out, but I can't, bro
I can't leave 'til I get what I came for
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack
Ay, say, say, Prob, I was like on betas, nigga
Soon as I hit this 10 to 4
I'm off to the homies and cop that heater
'Cause felon hunt from baby gates at night is gettin' tricky
She on the Eastside, and down in Daygo, Bloods is the 60's
And gettin' that pussy's like a reconnaissance mission
And when you from up off Imperial, you find yourself in that position
Mob shows the Southeast, ain't nothin' around here peaceful
Where she move like the Congo, these some animalistic people
Why I'm still alive? Nigga, your guess is good as mine
I think of all the dead niggas that rhyme that could've shined
A hip-hop apocalypse, sound like only zombies droppin' shit
Everything they kicks 'bout poppin' Percs and droppin' zips
Niggas got un-alived runnin' trill with some Karo
Nowadays it's young niggas with hitters on they payroll
A way out where? Shit, I'm captive to the rep I built
And every SoCal nigga got a tattoo of they partner killed