Lyrics:
The conspiracy theory...
I knew this nigga who sittin, on the dock on the bay
Had plans of gettin rich so he was plottin with Jay
This
from the drama, was raise by momma, but owe everything to my pops
Don't come around if you ain't from around, on me
Don't come around if you ain't from
The way things is looking I'ma see central booking
Eh yo Queens get the money
Ain't trying to see central booking, Oh shit
Dough boy in New York
lover boy
She know
She know
She know
She know
Good intentions from a lover boy
Go to the streets and find out you got another choice
Sweet talkin to him
with you today all night
Girl I need you by my side
Cos when I Dey with you omoge ara mi dada
Omoge you be God sent
I go love all day
From
the West Coast
To my peoples, if you hear me, where you at, throw your gloves in the
air
And wave ?em like you just don't care
From L.A. to the Bay, what
Struggle to ease the pain
Struggle to find the sane
Ignorance surrounding me
I've never been so filled with fear
All my life's been drained from me
the cuts and came up with legitimate wealth
From the ?? hardest city by the Bay
Busting rhymes, dropping nines dropping simply for a payday
Had his rest
caught without it
Mastermind, separate from the doubters
Remain solid, memo
Listening to my demo, tape deck
We all come from the jungle, but I'm the apex
babe
By the prettiest little ladies
That you ever did see
This side of Galveston Bay
And im proud to be blue collar
And im proud to be the working class
blew my back out
Pussy fat
He clean the plate
Finger licking
Old bay
He a Good boy
He Obey
You rap hoes
Is my prey
Hood nigga he love me
Like A chevy
He
what's goin on?)
It's your young nephew Turkey mayne
(What is it boy? What's goin on family?)
There's a lot of shit that need to be said big cousin
(Talk
love
For you
Everything I do
I do for you
Since I was a little boy
Growing up
In Lana Del Rey California
Not on the ocean side
No – the bay
Not from Atlanta, but I got the cater
Not from Chicago, but I'm a bear
I'm a bay area nigga, 49er, Raider
I'm about my bread man, I ain't no sucker
Said, "Boys, forget the whale
Look on over yonder
Cut the engines
Change the sail
Haul on the bowline"
We sang that melody
Like all tough sailors do
ignorin' the medicinal herbals
So we in your ass like you was Richard Gere or we was gerbils
You get stepped on like crack vials by ghetto children, plus
the junk
Put a sticker on the cover: "X-Rated Funk"
It's just me, you say I won't go far
But I won't stop rapping cause I rap so hard
From here to New
The bay, the boat, the tide
The rifle strapped by my side
My head, my hands, my heart
Watch them break apart
Do you feel alive
Do you think you’ll
Baby from the Bay, she be out here hot sided
Candy paint on it, got it lookin' like a 'Rari
I'mma drop that ass on that bitch when I park it
I'mma
Balenciaga, then I want Ballantine
I put a Richard on my wrist, I'm eatin' cuisine
Tryna stay up the park, I'm flexin' with the team
Everything from my shirt
Why I keep the raps on me can't airdry
Don't really care if you don't care why
Without a license boy got so much drive
So fly should be sponsored by
Monterrey they sang througout the dark
And you used to wear girl that gypsy dress
When you stroll on by all the boys they want a chance
And I remember
The conspiracy theory...
[Scarface]
I knew this nigga who sittin, on the dock on the bay
Had plans of gettin rich so he was plottin with Jay
This
signed by Hov and Dame?
And ran to Jacob and made the new Jesus chains?
In Jesus' name, let the choir say
"I'm on fire, ay," that's what Richard Pryor say
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