| It’s like a jungle sometimes |
| Done make me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
| Got me ridin' with that thumper |
| Police hit the crib, flush it down the toilet like a plumber |
| I ain’t stressin' 'bout this rap shit for real, I do numbers |
| Long live my nigga Iz, he ain’t make it through the summer |
| Thinkin' 'bout my nigga kids 'cause the holidays comin' |
| Know we standin' on that biz, we ain’t gotta say nothin' |
| Make 'em feel it in they ribs, they can’t stand how we comin', nigga |
| Take somethin', you don’t bring it back, then we gon' come and get it |
| Bad batch, it ain’t jumpin' back, I told 'em come and get it |
| I’m a gangster if I’m by myself or with a hundred niggas |
| Told shorty, «You can’t hit my pop 'cause it got somethin' in it» |
| Yeah, Boyz in the hood, I’m a fuckin' menace |
| We was stealin' out the store and then we turned to killers |
| He shot my brother in the back, we catch his ass, he finished |
| Turn your punk ass over, fah-fah, nigga |
| Family over everything, bread over sucker shit |
| All these blue hundreds on me, bitches think my number hit |
| Baby say I’m losin' weight, I took it as a compliment |
| Louis V jacket blue and gray, it cost a pint of Trish |
| Put the whole city on, that’s somethin' they won’t admit |
| Turned cameramans into bosses, made niggas rich |
| Went and pulled niggas out the mud, help 'em make M’s |
| Reason I got all these awards 'cause I take risks |
| I’m in the higher-ups |
| He ain’t really that, they got him fired up |
| Leave your head flat, don’t get your tire bust |
| Murder for hire, he violate, gotta write him up |
| You cut the head off the snake, then the body done |