The funk is on, high, drunk off Thunderbird and Grape Kool-Aid Out to take the beast down, piece down might be too late Tell the world that I’m a gangsta, cause I ride with a strapīut I ain’t yo gangsta, just a young nigga caught up in the struggle Now the cops keep watch, cause they know that I rap ![]() (My nigga Ray Luv, when’d you get up out the pen, man?)ĭid 2 months in the county and I opt to the beat It’s just that feelin, that feelin that I have for childrenĪre able to love us, but these crazy devils try to kill us While the Japs stack scratch with the Vietnameseīut I’m finna squeeze, stack cheese they left on a trapĪ young playa mack, hit the bud’, spit a rap I was told to tear up out this before this tear me apartĮat through scrap, black tracks, free milk and cheese Never been a lover, but America had broke my heart Make these police wonder: how is he so undercover? Lotta blacks locked down, but comin back around in ’96Īll the gals my six (what else?) my track crew and my mother ![]() Spot some thugs at the club, and they got the nines showinĭirty pimpin g’s, one of my dreams, player now listen Got my pencil for utensil, this’ll keep they mind knownin Cuddies perved by the corner, stout, herb
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