Uh, yeah nigga, no disrespect to you East Coast niggas
But West Coast we got this
We gon' keep it real G'd up
Y.A., Tribe, Lil' Kurupt
Okay, spit
Yeah, if I don't make it rappin', it's back to jackin'
Back to the click-clackin' and the khaki jackets
I'm a rider, that's why I got that tatted
A provider, jazz got a lot I ain't had
I'm a survivor, screwdriver, cracked steering column
Merry event, book bag, gat at the bottom
I'm convinced, then my common sense intensified
Now I'm convinced it's hoppin' over fences
Wake up in the morning
You know we can't find no money, money
Feed me, feed me, I'mma feed my whole family, family
And when you wanna run up on me
You know she a stare pon me, pon me
Because you know the hustlin' is rough
And the natty dinky, dinky
Pistols my specialty (And uh)
I'm a gangsta my specialty (And uh)
Fire, I let it fly and toss (And uh)
I'm a boss, Molotovs get tossed (And uh)
Hey girl, what the fuck's the deal? (And uh)
You want the fake girl or you want the real? (And uh)
'64 Chevy's all on D's (And uh)
Overdoses on West Coast MC's (And uh)
And you be thinkin' you got me but you ain't got a thang
Niggas claimin' they bangin' but they don't really bang
Since I switched my position, position switched the game
Pistols whistle while missiles chip a nigga's frame
Wake up in the morning
You know we can't find no money, money
Feed me, feed me, I'mma feed my whole family, family
And when you wanna run up on me
You know she a stare pon me, pon me
Because you know the hustlin' is rough
And the natty dinky, dinky
I'm a pistol popper
'88 Candy painted Cadillac dropper
Tanqueray and vodka, one nine, a .38, TEC and a chopper
Infrared hollow pointed, tucked in my boxers
I'mma keep it gangsta y'all, fuck what the rest say
Keep a lot of dope and coke like an esé
So please pay attention, the street shit is serious
My niggas leave you bleedin' like bitches on they periods
Contact your label, bring your best artists
Nigga, we started this verbally retarded shit
Entourage ride on weed and Budweiser
Throwaway .38, brand new .45-er
Wake up in the morning
You know we can't find no money, money
Feed me, feed me, I'mma feed my whole family, family
And when you wanna run up on me
You know she a stare pon me, pon me
Because you know the hustlin' is rough
And the natty dinky, dinky
Light up
Break 'em down nigga
Got it nigga, what?
Please, let's roll these suckers
You know, you know
You know we can't find no money, money
Please let's roll these suckers
You know, you know
Please let's roll these suckers
You know, you know
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