welcome. to the place i call home. new york city's own. ridin' round on chrome. even loved to learn the streets. or leave 'em alone!
cause you all alone. out here in the danger zone. you don't want the convicts to come through vets
look at your feet make you 1
2 step - you be ciara? yep!
you can scatter - and it might be even badder
if i kicked you on the bound; kick likely in your bladder. i got the whole town hooked over this dope
and i'm a smoke till i'm old as the pope
serial baller remote. i ain' broke
i hit the store with a brick. yeah! - that's why they playing tug of war with my dick!
i used to have big dreams now all of them stripped
lingerie on silicon ballin' they tit. niggaz wind up in the sky over a dolla
man i'm a keep it real! - the most these niggaz dyin' over 'nada!
these babies need milk and baby momma's need prada
and daddy got pride. - that's why he got fried. and it happens every weekend that's why we outside
buyin' cameras for the store you niggaz gon' need more. no need to run! real beef follows you
everywhere you go
so
you don't need a hidin' space!
you need a gun! - you need a clique!
a lil' heart! - and it'll spark. you be a victim of society!
you better load up your weapon for you come outside
niggaz is scheme on ya man the hood ain' right. - you be a victim of society!
come take a look at where i come from. man that's fucked up what happened to dude?
shorty all up on his moms boots clappin' the rule. retaliation from a robbery and back of the school
left him bodily harmed. - spin on it through the gat and the bomb. it goes on out here! all day long out here!
pop
pop! blaaattt! - it's all i hear!
watch your back got a town that'd spray at your winners
right in the parkin' lot like a-wax and menace. the money sent us our wave caps to vent us
maybachs and spinners. - ray plaques and winners. i'm blowin' dro'! - you know haze black with spinach. if you hit it too hard
you'd be dazed back for minutes. how the hell wrong shit spend days at your dentist
gettin' your teeth straightened. - jus' cause you was hatin'!
you met your maker. - now it's time to meet satan
and your burial is the only thing left and we waitin'. no need to run! real beef follows you
everywhere you go
so
you don't need a hidin' space!
you need a gun! - you need a clique!
a lil' heart! - and it'll spark. you be a victim of society!
you better load up your weapon for you come outside
niggaz is scheme on ya man the hood ain' right. - you be a victim of society!
stop all that pillow talkin'!
that's how niggaz get their shit knocked back. these industry niggaz playin' their row! - he ain't from the street. they underestimate the strong and they pity the weak. your boy gon' rep the unit 'till they put 'em to sleep
gotta bring vietnam to your hood in a bleek. before i hop in my impala with my head in the breeze
i say a prayer for the g's like my homeboy cheese. there won't be no more pops and no more hp's
shotty died 'till his hip knockin' on his knees. man
this is for the niggaz in the can with a stretch
for the poor rain! - and a lil' man from the 'jects. with loose cannons they understand that they next
cause they boxed in. - caught in a jam and they stressed. i got no problem clippin' a rookie
man you damn near bitch!
all you missin' is the tits and the pussy! yeah!
i go as hard for the chedda
so i sold more records than the whole terror squad put together. no need to run! real beef follows you
everywhere you go
so
you don't need a hidin' space!
you need a gun! - you need a clique!
a lil' heart! - and it'll spark. you be a victim of society!
you better load up your weapon for you come outside
niggaz is scheme on ya man the hood ain' right. - you be a victim of society!