Lyrics:
Business is business, me and the plug had a great rapport
I'm the same ole G since we was sitting on the porch
No wasting time with a bitch, she can say
[Smoke]
I'm the cookie monster, from Seasame Street with big
Yellow birds for sale you need chicks I keep bricks
I'm the boss, They workin' I sit
Mistakes are a part of life just learn from yours
They making weapons out of germs for war
AIDS bombs straight through your front door
And I'm sure they
hittas, hittas
Me and my hittas, hittas
Me and my hittas, hittas
Me and my
I be on some East shit, we be on some G shit
Henny's all we sip
Lean like
To get it off your mind
Well I start hearing melody's
So I grabt my pen and pad and recline
On my grind
(Chorus)
(Rap by Warren G)
We on the grind y'all
so I got them by
Clocked the cops yeah clocked them spies
Fuck the opps yeah fuck them guys
My man thinks that he's deep
Nah nah nah you ain't deep
still on that hood shit
Post up by the liquor store, up the block from 8 to 4
My little nigga selling dope, it's GPL fuck you now
My Spanish Bousin
eat it eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it)
Riding around through the hood getting brain im a scholar.
Smoking lou Kane kushhh
4g auto push
I get
Chrous: Hittaz on deck Httaz on deck Hittaz on deck, Nigga fuck yo hood nigga fuck yo block nigga fuck yo set, its a no fly zone rap ass nigga
Boy Im telling you
Niggas ain't who they say they is boy
You ain't who you think you is boy
Fuccing identity crisis
World going through an identity
....... ""now wiN wit me""
MostLy i aint trippin i'm sippin on sumthiN' Heavy Like
Henny or the Remy wit Pepsi Wit water on da iCe
Patron 'ill have me
I saw your homies snitching on The First 48
It's the first of the month, don't get murked by the gang
I said bitch get in the car with
at the parking lot
Yeah we made out I done come a long yeah
Never had non
Pass on my nigga the blunt
Nigga don't function
Gang gang niggas a lot
Hopping I'm gone
(Repeat)
The Gifted
Soldier in Gods army enlisted
Surrounded by pyramids
With one fist lifted
I'm not a fake rapper
With my image scripted
Scared to stand
bang in east bay it's a G thing
Punks saying salutation while taking lives with no delay
Feel me its west coast the left coast no test wit killer Cali
a clip
I cannot throw hands, got my sip (ooh)
I cannot throw hands, got my clip
And I'm off the lean with the Sprite (with a Sprite)
But I keep
niggas bang, bang-bang
Now I'm back up on the block, rap shit locked
Pocket full of money, no crack in my socks
Shouts to the homies in jail with no
no to anybody
I ain't never, had a friend like him
I'm feeling vacated by destiny, wish I was in the wind like him
He took me to the Kappa for
just didn't care
Now I'm older and wiser by far
If I ever get home to Houston alive
Then I won't drive a truck anymore
Great God A'mighty what was
own
Oswin Verse 2
I'm just a good nigga
Surrounded by hood niggas
Who never learned to pull out
But learned how to pull triggers
Who believe in
when it's all good, clutch ya name (yeah.. yeah)
Through my eyes, I'm all hood, fuck the fame
Play a script like Larenz Tate, bench weights (Yeah)
Worked
Vigi
Cashtime life
Lento si yiqale singena lutho
Amapokoto avuza
Mara nou lei bari ziyas’ hater
Amapokoto dumba
Phetu ma double G Zet no pro i know
him in a hearse
Free LB, gotta hold that bird
Hate getting get stopped by fed
More time I forgot what I had in my pocket
If he gets close then pop it,
thicky
Who fucking wit me?
Not Lizzy not Ricky/
Boys n the hood luv a bitty/ yupppp
All you hatas suck a titty/ yuppp
I ain’t here by no luck/
Square hoes
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