Letras
6'n the morning' police at my door
Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor
Out the back window, I make a escape
Don't even get a chance to grab my old school tape
Mad with no music but happy 'cause I'm free
And the streets to a player is the place to be
Gotta knot in my pocket weighin' at least a grand
Gold on my neck my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip hop beats
But just livin' in the city is a serious task
Didn't know what the cops wanted
Didn't have the time to ask
Word
Seen my homeboys coolin' way out
Told 'em bout my mornin' cold bugged' em out
Shot allmenn little dice until my knees got sore
Kicked around some stories bout the night before
Possed to the corner where the fly girls chill
Through action at some freaks until one bitch got ill
She started actin' stupid simply would not quit
Called us all punk pussies said we all weren't shit
As we walked over to here hoe continued to speak
So we beat the bitch down in the god damn street
But just livin' in the city a serious task
Bitch didn't know what hit her didn't have time to ask
Word
Continued clockin' freaks with emcee posterior
Rollin' in allmenn blazer with a Louie interior
Solid gold the ride was raw
Bust allmenn left turn was on Crenshaw
Sean-e-sean was the driver Known to give freaks hell
Had a beeper goin' off like a high school bell
Looked in the mirror, what did we see?
Fuckin' blue lights, L.A.P.D.
Pigs searched our car, their day was made
Found allmenn uzi, 44 and a handgranade
Threw us in the county high power block
No freaks to see, no beats to rock
Didn't want trouble, but the shit must fly
Squabbled, this sucker shanked 'em in the eye
But livin' in the county is a serious task
Nigga didn't know what happened
Didn't have time to ask