| Song | Any Meanz |
| Artist | MC Eiht |
| Album | Last Man Standing |
| 作词 : Allen, Tyler | |
| Geah (check it out) | |
| In the muthafuckin' house (geah) | |
| For the paper | |
| Mr tony back in the house regulate y'know i'm sayin' | |
| Half ounce hoodlums in the house | |
| Geah | |
| Deadly decisions is what i'm bringin' | |
| Be's the problem solver when my revolver starts singin' | |
| A thin line between life and death you're stuck | |
| When my mind turns corrupt so i'm mentally fucked | |
| I be bringin' the pain like meth | |
| Inject the meth in your vain you're seeing thangs insane | |
| Hollow points start to spit | |
| Regulate your block no bullshit | |
| Bust a u-turn the tyres burn rubber g | |
| Retaliation of the robberies after me | |
| No aftermath | |
| Instead the bloodbath keep steerin' the b.g.'s on the west path | |
| Chest blast | |
| Buckshots touch yo' whole side | |
| N 2 deep no sleep when we ride claim that west gang | |
| Always the side of ridahs | |
| Gang of arms out the windows is if we responds | |
| Homicides: points chalked up for the victory | |
| Y'all know it's compton 4 life, ain't no killin' me | |
| Chorus: (x2) | |
| For years we've been accustomed to serves the fiends | |
| On the streets keeps the works stuffed away in jeans | |
| Bitches and niggas do damnest things | |
| Buck buck for the paper by any meanz... | |
| I needs cheese no bullshit you better know it | |
| If it's a contest to be the greediest i'ma show it | |
| It's all for the scrilla | |
| Divine, cristal, no wine, top biller | |
| Seven digits is the destiny | |
| Don't let the feds, the clock-heads get the best of me | |
| You know who got it, heavyweight | |
| No sacks premium shit | |
| Bitches beg mr. tony: you just don't quit! | |
| Cash flows to make fat flips since '86 | |
| Where the cash connects western union through mix | |
| Hoes got the pick up straight back and no stoppin' | |
| And watch out for the bird | |
| Cause they just might got the word | |
| Who runs to west side got the bitches on deck | |
| Check it, for 20's and 50's they gettin' naked | |
| Y'all knows the deal it's complication nines i tote | |
| On a mission, premonition, money flips to coke | |
| Chorus... | |
| One time got me on a foot pursuit | |
| Yell freeze in the air as they start to shoot (get up!) | |
| Money that i loot thus begins the chase | |
| Plea's no contest when i'm slapped with a case | |
| Judge put my bail at a mill | |
| Free as a bird, lawyer tryin' to fight appeal | |
| Still got the co - nnections which direction | |
| Fly birds straight through your intersection | |
| Reflections of the way life used to be | |
| Where me amigos gave lots of love on the kilos | |
| Servin' the g way | |
| Five hun' floats on the freeway | |
| In the d-game got a street name blowin' the chronic | |
| Too difficult to get with the west ebonics | |
| No gin and tonic, situations ironic | |
| Bullets spittin' too fast like my fingers bionic | |
| Chorus... |
| zuò cí : Allen, Tyler | |
| Geah check it out | |
| In the muthafuckin' house geah | |
| For the paper | |
| Mr tony back in the house regulate y' know i' m sayin' | |
| Half ounce hoodlums in the house | |
| Geah | |
| Deadly decisions is what i' m bringin' | |
| Be' s the problem solver when my revolver starts singin' | |
| A thin line between life and death you' re stuck | |
| When my mind turns corrupt so i' m mentally fucked | |
| I be bringin' the pain like meth | |
| Inject the meth in your vain you' re seeing thangs insane | |
| Hollow points start to spit | |
| Regulate your block no bullshit | |
| Bust a uturn the tyres burn rubber g | |
| Retaliation of the robberies after me | |
| No aftermath | |
| Instead the bloodbath keep steerin' the b. g.' s on the west path | |
| Chest blast | |
| Buckshots touch yo' whole side | |
| N 2 deep no sleep when we ride claim that west gang | |
| Always the side of ridahs | |
| Gang of arms out the windows is if we responds | |
| Homicides: points chalked up for the victory | |
| Y' all know it' s compton 4 life, ain' t no killin' me | |
| Chorus: x2 | |
| For years we' ve been accustomed to serves the fiends | |
| On the streets keeps the works stuffed away in jeans | |
| Bitches and niggas do damnest things | |
| Buck buck for the paper by any meanz... | |
| I needs cheese no bullshit you better know it | |
| If it' s a contest to be the greediest i' ma show it | |
| It' s all for the scrilla | |
| Divine, cristal, no wine, top biller | |
| Seven digits is the destiny | |
| Don' t let the feds, the clockheads get the best of me | |
| You know who got it, heavyweight | |
| No sacks premium shit | |
| Bitches beg mr. tony: you just don' t quit! | |
| Cash flows to make fat flips since ' 86 | |
| Where the cash connects western union through mix | |
| Hoes got the pick up straight back and no stoppin' | |
| And watch out for the bird | |
| Cause they just might got the word | |
| Who runs to west side got the bitches on deck | |
| Check it, for 20' s and 50' s they gettin' naked | |
| Y' all knows the deal it' s complication nines i tote | |
| On a mission, premonition, money flips to coke | |
| Chorus... | |
| One time got me on a foot pursuit | |
| Yell freeze in the air as they start to shoot get up! | |
| Money that i loot thus begins the chase | |
| Plea' s no contest when i' m slapped with a case | |
| Judge put my bail at a mill | |
| Free as a bird, lawyer tryin' to fight appeal | |
| Still got the co nnections which direction | |
| Fly birds straight through your intersection | |
| Reflections of the way life used to be | |
| Where me amigos gave lots of love on the kilos | |
| Servin' the g way | |
| Five hun' floats on the freeway | |
| In the dgame got a street name blowin' the chronic | |
| Too difficult to get with the west ebonics | |
| No gin and tonic, situations ironic | |
| Bullets spittin' too fast like my fingers bionic | |
| Chorus... |