Lyrics:
What's up with the Tipster? Brother man be wildin'
But I be on missions that's beyond eye level
Questing out the devil and his pals that are several
was stack La La
But sho don't
Ya'll don't know we makin' that paper pal
How!
With Tha Eastsidaz and Bow Wow
Really now!
You and "G"
French braids
'Cause I'm the G-A-N-G-S-T-A
Ice Cube - a motherf***in clepto
And tried to catch the early bird but they slept, so
Who gets the worm?
And if I'm
they my rings
So give it up punk and then I just
Put another jack in progress
It's the American way
Cos I'm the G-A-N-G-S-T-A
Ice Cube,
up, get on the one way 'cause more Sundays hotter than Monday
Often gettin' trailed by cops, gotta get away by hittin them blocks
Got my glock, never
techs by your rockets threw jets
Who's next to get hit by firepower that's so raw?
Go play; 4-4's ready for war
[Mase]
All out, what, what
Want
the American way
'cause I'm the G-A-N-G-S-T-A
Ice Cube, a motherfuckin' clepto'
and tried to catch the early bird but they slept, so
who gets the worm?
Two-thirty, baby, won't you meet me by The Bean?
Too early, maybe later you can show me things
You know what it is, whenever I visit
Windy city, she
blow smoke in your face, burn rubber off of rim tires
Yes I ah, Jay I ah
Double G-A, livewire nigga, holla back!
All I need
Rocawear (check)
Nike
blow smoke in your face, burn rubber off of rim tires
Yes I ah, Jay I ah
Double G-A, livewire nigga, holla back!
All I need
Rocawear (check)
Nike
My girl got a girlfriend
See 'em in a pearl Benz
Passin' by ya, sittin' higher
Flyin' then what yours is
My girl got a girlfriend
And we be bringin'
on the runway
Met a freak on a Sunday, buy her a chocolate sundae
Planned his attack, now little Candace sports spandex
Then he met a chick named Candace by
ima be alrite
Do or die yea we living by the G code
At all times dawg stay on point with that pistol
Lames wanna have a flow like mine but i dont think
Nah, I'm doing what I want to
I do me and you do you
Ballin on a staca
Best life be on cray cray
I met him on a Sunday
Baskin in my hay day
He say "baby
teenage hustlers
Street grinders, paper chasin scrapin busters
By keepin dust up noses and caine homes; pipes and cans
So they want they ride candy
and be quick to put this gun to yo' side
Be like, "That chain nice - I like that pal.
Matter fact {*click click*} I'd like that now."
You've got game?
yeah I get it out da snipes
Yeah Got ya and dont u dare fucking with a real G
Stop ya before u get laid down by a LOC
Yeah some would say you shoulda
exactly
They used to laugh, joke, and try to fool me though
Saying (Man, you wasting all your time in the studio!)
I used to get dissed by the neighborhood
hold of myself
G-d
G-d-e
A-f#m-e-a
Got me a dog, I think it's time I got me a dog
To be my little pal, I think it's time I got me a dog
Last one
of semen,
And I got da women screamin', and they could catch my balls on any given Sunday like my name's Willy Beaman,
Or LL Cool, so if ya boyfriend thinks
mine, so I know you gon' let me spend it
My clique made it known, we 'bout havin' things
Sport diamonds, so I know you gon' let us bling
B.G., shut it
Well it's a hot hot sunday jump up around a quarter to ten
Had to run and get this blunt that i left in my benz
I lit the shit and caught a early
the American way
'cause I'm the G-A-N-G-S-T-A
Ice Cube, a motherfuckin' clepto'
and tried to catch the early bird but they slept, so
who gets the worm?
place
Don’t talk about my g’s
You know IRS takes fees
Sunday you know I’m free
But you’re on sleeping on me
Fuck your hating talk
I want money talk
You
.jpg/300px-Treponem_pal,_thank_you!_(9133313241).jpg "Treponem Pal")
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