Letras
Starin' out my third story window
(Cuttin' swishers, blowin' indo, writin'
Sick shit to The Firm instrumentals)
Hydroplaning, I'm king of Cali, what the fuck y'all saying?
I rise like 6 AM, the same when the Knicks playin'
Now I got a wife on my arm, I pose a threat
My competition, dismiss him unless he own the Nets
Streets is whispering, from hoods to penitentiaries
Without homie, how could I top The Documentary?
It's elementary, I told niggas Dre sent for me
We started from scratch, hate it or love it, I'm rap's MVP
Niggas crowd around from Compton to New York
To hear me and the God talking, you a dead man walking
Mo' hit the switch, we drove out of the fire
And I came this close to bringing Hov out of retirement
The truth will rise, March 9th in NY
And if I die, let me fly with the ghost of B.I
Just another day in the life
I hear these niggas talking, saying they gon' take my life
But y'all niggas better sit and think twice
'Cause you really could be talking your life
Unless y'all ready to pay that Wall Street price
'Cause you fuck around and put your body on ice
'Cause it's just another day in my life
I remember back in Compton, before The Documentary
When Black Wall Street was in the hood moving heavily
We all the same, Game, nobody moving separately
If shit pop off, grab the hammers and get ready, B
Unload the clip and never think twice
If a nigga run up, then the homie lose his life
Kidnap his kids and duct tape his wife
Yeah, it sound wrong, but homie, we living trife
Martin Luther King told us he had a dream
Said we all the same and we on the same team
We should help each other out when someone's in need
So why the fuck are they living good and I'm stuck serving fiends?
What's the answer? Similar to cancer
They ain't got one, so until they do, I'm blasting
Knuckle up if you ain't got nothing else
But I'ma cock back the chopper and shoot it out myself, motherfucker