Lyrics
If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
Seem like the whole city go against me
Every time I'm in the street, I hear
"Yawk, yawk, yawk, yawk"
Man down, where you from?
Who you know where you from?
Where your grandma stay, huh, my n-?
This m.A.A.d city I run
Brace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane
This is not a rap on how I'm slingin' - or move -
This is cul de sac and plenty Cognac and major pain
Not the drill sergeant, but the stress that weigh in on your brain
It was me, L Boog, and Yan Yan, YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans
It got ugly, wavin' yo' hand out the window check yourself
Uh, Warriors and Conans, hope euphoria can slow dance
With society, the driver seat, the first one to get killed
Seen a light-skinned - with his brains blown out
At the same burger stand where - hang out
Now this is not a tape recorder sayin' that he did it
But ever since that day, I was lookin' at him different
That was back when I was nine, Joey packed the nine
Pakistan on every porch is fine, we adapt to crime
Pack a van with four guns at a time
With the sliding door, f- is up?
F- you shootin' for if you ain't walkin' up, you f- punk?
Pickin' up the f- pump, pickin' off you suckers
Suck a d- or die or sucker punch
A wall of bullets comin' from AK's, AR's, "Ay, y'all, duck"
That's what mama said when we was eatin' that free lunch
Aw man, -damn, all hell broke loose
You killed my cousin back in '94, f- yo' truce
Now crawl your head in that noose
You wind up dead on the news
Ain't no peace treaty, just piecin' BGs up to pre-approve
Bodies on top of bodies, IVs on top of IVs
Obviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys
When you hop on that trolley, make sure your color's correct
Make sure you're corporate, or they'll be callin' your mother collect
They say the governor collect all of our taxes, except