as we dip through the dirty
spin out and bent up to thirty
never put a bitch before your road doggs
we do shit other rappers can't feel
hangin' in the same spots we hung out for the deal
the ghetto ain't a pop song
do it 'til the death if you have too
just get the fuck up off the cuts
and have you doin' penitentary time
got these rap cats thinkin'
if they shit to lift rhymes
if you ain't in the streets
dedicated to my niggas out here stuck in the trap
i deliver it just like i live it
this is really that gangsta boggie
what you hop your 6-4 to?
you can do what you want to
what you hop your 6-4 to?
you can do what you want to
what did you fall in the spot?
you could say that they callin' a cop
whether they ballin' or not
the steven segal of the block
clock you with a pool ball in a sock
pop you and crawl off in a drop
i'm fly as a shot when it hovers
a mix between morpheous and matrix
can i. rip 'em up? this a jack
you couldn't see this novelist
with positive and optimistic results from an optometrist
domes like two head soldiers
i'm ghetto enough to go platinum on bootleg versions
jumpin' outta the caravan
now i'm finna smoke the camera man