Lyrics:
a trip
And hop into some gangsta shit with me
13 caps for them niggas who want to get with me
Get at me niggas empty enough clips at me
Want to put
that I got, yo
Is shit I worked hard for
Life in the metro's so cold
Repeat 1
[gangsta boo]
I'm on some other type shit
I'm on some crazy ass shit
I'm
Verse 1: (B.G.)
Money makin' is my thing
A mill is what I'm tryin' to reach
Good shit to my peeps is what the fuck I preach
Baby Gangsta is my
Gangstas make the world go round as it was written
That's why at every show somebody trippin'
So listen
Now I like to smoke weed & drink
don't know bout bein a revolutionary
Neva take a trip as a bad man missionary
Neva read a page from the gangsta dictionary
No chi-chi man get come when
the ghetto-out the city
(Naaaaah, mmmmmmm)
[Verse 1]
Look I was raised in in the(ghetto)
I got payed in the(ghetto)
a lot of gangsta's got made in the(ghetto)
check my gangsta lean
Gorillas in my trunk so you know just how I'm vean?
Dem peanut butter guts so plush is wat I'm used ta hit the turbo booster
the cannons out, make you wish and blow your candles out
Raised by the streets, see-Murder show me what a man about
Gangstas never flinch and when they sent,
me with the same triggers
You didn't know the new Benz I just bought you
Could be tracked by satellite, and that's how I caught you
Oh Baby why? In
until we gone
Way back in the days when the hottest thang was Jherri curls
When you could always spot a gangsta
By the way his hair out grew his
Rude boy uzi wrapped around bullet satchel
Slide up no hands we will snatch you
Drama that I rose from any man goes dumb
Drive by what bitch we do
in a room
I'm a gangsta, you are just a goon....Boom!
I'm like that! You can tell by the way I walk
You can tell by the way I talk
I'm above these
with my tee on
Beat her in the morning by the kitchen with the tea on
Thirty birds comin' in Atlanta, just like Deon
Nigga wanna argue on the net,
like CPR.
Made the west side world wide.
No PR. Gangsta rap god. Imma end all be all.
California love from the Bloods to the C-Dogs.
The Compton monsters
hop over fence, I'm offended by co-defendants
Drink codeine for mornin' sickness
Your dad was a motherfuckin' snitch, so nigga, you were born
Haunted by your past mistakes
It's hard to tell between real or fake
They say good things come to those who wait (wait)
You make me feel some type
thuggish minds turned out by the street
I couldn't see it while I was outside slangin my rocks
servin' death to my people, commitin the ultimate evil
the b**** up put the gangsta twist on
Her sunny southern cal it never snows
N****s yellin' ha's and ho's we dumpin' out of 64's
When it comes to the gun
Gangsta's Paradise do chuja a on nie jest Coolio
Prawie skończył z kulką we łbie w jednym z płytkich grobów
Zmienił branżę miał już dość chciał stabilizację
with one dude, you got beef with five guys
Ain't no going thru no drive-thru, but they gon' hit that drive-by, and bye, bye
One minute you got
City by ballers with diamonds
Climbin the Benzes, rollin Philles
We younger minors
Me, I be the one that's only 12 years old
Crankin off the hook from
Yeah, this the Shady Records mixtape (yeah)
Invasion, mixed by the Evil Genius (50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo)
G-Unit
This rap shit plays
Trukfit
Okay I fuck a bitch and I'm gone
That's gangsta, Al Capone
I make that pussy spit like Bone
I'm talkin' 'bout bone, bone, bone bone
I'm fuckin'
Yo ill will, ruff ryders
What what, straight like that
You a killer or a hustler, dealer or customer
Gangsta or buster, youngster or old nigga
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