Nuthin' But The Gangsta

Geyeah, we in the motherfuckin' house

Eiht Hype in the motherfuckin' house, geyeah

Half Oz in the motherfuckin' house

My Niggas on the Run in the motherfuckin' house

Lil Hawk and Burn in the motherfuckin' house, geyeah

And ain't no love in the nine-fo', ho

It makes me want to jack motherfuckers in the fog

Let them hood rat bitches know the true meaning of a dog

Makes me want to be a nigga for hire

Let five-oh feel the motherfuckin' fi-yah

Hold my nuts and make my cash

Break this ten and a half off in your ass, uhh

Walkin' with a strap and a bad ass rap

You get off first before your enemy tries to peel your cap, uh-huh

And bitches can't hang with the pack

Fools talkin' smack, it makes me smack you right back

Niggas got beef 'cause Eiht Hype's a mack

And since the age of thirteen, I've been packin'

Fool, I slang a gang of twenty bags

Thick stuff in my pocket makes my khakis sag

Always on the lookout for the helicopter

Blast from the AK fill the fuckin' copper

It's do or die, motherfuckers die

Niggas from the Compton streets, so don't even try, nigga

You get slugs from the stub for offendin' me

Nuthin' but the gangsta in me

Nuthin' but the gangsta, geyeah

Spice 1 come down

I am a G, yes, I'm only a G

Walks like a G, talks like a G

So A to the motherfuckin' K

It's your one-eight-seven proof ass nigga from the Bay

Run up because, uh, my gat's quick to slap shit

Pistol-whip they ass, I'mma do the blastin'

Eiht, you get cash and dash the fuck out the cut

Fifty bullets up in the next nigga, that's how we runnin' up

I pulls my hat to the back and I slide

When a motherfucka peelin' his cap

Pick out my nine millimeter Uzi—barrel chrome, handle plastic

So killamatic, killamatic, killaman, killaman with me Glock

Piggedy-pop, motherfucka, watch 'em drop, motherfucka

Just a G, comin' up out the Bay with a fat AK

Put it in your face and split your wig, nigga

Zag to zig, nigga, disrespect me I'mma bank ya

'Cause I'm nuthin' but a motherfuckin' East Bay gangsta

Check it out

Oh my God! I destroy cities like The Blob

Droppin' trunks of funk and I blast a punk from here to Cape Cod

Fuck a job, my organization runs like the mob

The original Joe Pex Flex, Redman, bitch, you better ask somebod'

Prepare to slam from here to Japan with jams

I'm from the Jersey section and I keep it real for ninety-four and

I can't march on swap meets, y'all duck sects, I dissects

But I pack a nine gat and the cops still don't know where mine's at

Black, huh!! I snatch the Beauty from the Beast

It's that funk deceased nigga comin' thru, bitch, so grab your hairpiece

I got the gangsta in me plus I'm not friendly

To a bitch-ass whose mouth runs more laps than the Indy

Now let me spice the track up, MC Eiht pass the bone so I can get lifted

And a head can get blown when Bronx pass the biscuit

I drop the funk and drop a body to show I'm serious

The gangsta means I'm live, rappin from New Jersey, period!!

Hit the weights everyday like Popeye the Sailor

Bailin' with my starched up khakis and Chuck Taylors

Just touched down from San Quentin

Hand me that fresh ass Pendleton, uhh!

It's nuthin' but the gang thing

Makes me hit the corner and slang

Board and quarter about a hundred times

Don't be servin' no dubs and dimes

But I do it, no hesitation

Fuck it, I'mma violate probation

No one gave a mad fuck about me

Since the age of eight I roamed the halls of LB

Pops boned out, never had a big brother

Put on the set when I could pick the right color

The homey put me down on a half a bird

Turned it into key, now they buyin' from me

Rollin' in the Trey on fuckin' gold D's

Nuthin' but the motherfuckin' gangsta in me, geyeah

Nuthin' but the gangsta—geyeah

Nuthin' but the gangsta—come down

And that's how it's going down

That's how it's going down, uhh

Half Oz in the motherfuckin' house

Niggas on the Run, Lil Hawk and Burn

Nuthin' but the gangsta, geyeah