| 作词 : Walter Burns/Tyruss Himes/Maurice Harding | |
| 作曲 : Walter Burns/Tyruss Himes/Maurice Harding | |
| It was a dope spot from y`all | |
| One on one strappin` | |
| That`s the way it was when the four of us was strappin` | |
| I`m a ****in` class from the Gs in the hood | |
| Puttin` worth, did some dirt | |
| Now a snitch never would | |
| Blowin` fat jag blunts with my nigga P | |
| Growin` up | |
| Time comin` back sippin Henessey | |
| We said we seniors are old | |
| And I felt like a god man bitch | |
| And i had my pickup '85 bitches | |
| And my family was known to be great | |
| See Syke Moore representin` no matter who sets it on | |
| Street power | |
| Why you niggas flip and you thug shit | |
| I be by my mother****in` grip | |
| Numba nos | |
| Cause we three million minds | |
| Remember that | |
| Damn its a shame | |
| But still I`m in the game | |
| I`m tryin to get street fame | |
| Don`t blame my mama | |
| Don`t blame my daddy | |
| I know they wish they never had me | |
| In and out of jail by 12 | |
| Failing out of school | |
| Cause I was livin` by the street rules | |
| Hangin with hoes | |
| Droppin dawgs as a little loot | |
| I was gettin my respect but i was still rude | |
| Into the game and slang | |
| Into the mother****ing | |
| With `em double ups | |
| We slangin them whole things | |
| Hey I just told my mail man | |
| You hangin like a bail | |
| And even with no proof they gonna put me in jail | |
| Everbody says he`s sold and I`m outta control | |
| Mother****ers gossip and I still roll | |
| Bitches want my cash on my dash on my pac-vit | |
| They wouldn`t know a mother****er if he didn`t have shit | |
| So while I`m ballin and kickin up dust | |
| Get your score fresh | |
| Bitches made niggas know not to **** with us | |
| Cause I`m livin on the edge | |
| I`m blastin lead | |
| Wanted by the feds they got to take me dead | |
| So **** it try to work it in the inner city | |
| In the land of no pity | |
| I made it by the street fame | |
| Super storm made it by street fame | |
| I had to make some people feel the pain | |
| In this dirty game | |
| I know I`m on my way to hell | |
| Hey yo gather it up for all the niggas that have been smoked | |
| The hood that took me under | |
| A nigga gots the heart | |
| Don`t get it twisted cause I`m mad with my homey`s score | |
| I kill for my niggas, my niggas kill for me | |
| That`s the love you get from your drug for you pootie | |
| It works, see? | |
| I`m a G | |
| Would a gang of niggas have to reach and appeal me | |
| Cause I smoked their homey | |
| Well don`t feel proud | |
| Cause around here thats what makes it worse | |
| I smoke blunts all day to keep my mind off them | |
| They don`t stop | |
| Through my casket drop-top let me ride | |
| All i want is Shatmo | |
| He`s a god | |
| And it don`t matter if a rapper plays | |
| Cause I cought the back of some minds | |
| **** the fame |
| zuo ci : Walter Burns Tyruss Himes Maurice Harding | |
| zuo qu : Walter Burns Tyruss Himes Maurice Harding | |
| It was a dope spot from y all | |
| One on one strappin | |
| That s the way it was when the four of us was strappin | |
| I m a in class from the Gs in the hood | |
| Puttin worth, did some dirt | |
| Now a snitch never would | |
| Blowin fat jag blunts with my nigga P | |
| Growin up | |
| Time comin back sippin Henessey | |
| We said we seniors are old | |
| And I felt like a god man bitch | |
| And i had my pickup ' 85 bitches | |
| And my family was known to be great | |
| See Syke Moore representin no matter who sets it on | |
| Street power | |
| Why you niggas flip and you thug shit | |
| I be by my mother in grip | |
| Numba nos | |
| Cause we three million minds | |
| Remember that | |
| Damn its a shame | |
| But still I m in the game | |
| I m tryin to get street fame | |
| Don t blame my mama | |
| Don t blame my daddy | |
| I know they wish they never had me | |
| In and out of jail by 12 | |
| Failing out of school | |
| Cause I was livin by the street rules | |
| Hangin with hoes | |
| Droppin dawgs as a little loot | |
| I was gettin my respect but i was still rude | |
| Into the game and slang | |
| Into the mother ing | |
| With em double ups | |
| We slangin them whole things | |
| Hey I just told my mail man | |
| You hangin like a bail | |
| And even with no proof they gonna put me in jail | |
| Everbody says he s sold and I m outta control | |
| Mother ers gossip and I still roll | |
| Bitches want my cash on my dash on my pacvit | |
| They wouldn t know a mother er if he didn t have shit | |
| So while I m ballin and kickin up dust | |
| Get your score fresh | |
| Bitches made niggas know not to with us | |
| Cause I m livin on the edge | |
| I m blastin lead | |
| Wanted by the feds they got to take me dead | |
| So it try to work it in the inner city | |
| In the land of no pity | |
| I made it by the street fame | |
| Super storm made it by street fame | |
| I had to make some people feel the pain | |
| In this dirty game | |
| I know I m on my way to hell | |
| Hey yo gather it up for all the niggas that have been smoked | |
| The hood that took me under | |
| A nigga gots the heart | |
| Don t get it twisted cause I m mad with my homey s score | |
| I kill for my niggas, my niggas kill for me | |
| That s the love you get from your drug for you pootie | |
| It works, see? | |
| I m a G | |
| Would a gang of niggas have to reach and appeal me | |
| Cause I smoked their homey | |
| Well don t feel proud | |
| Cause around here thats what makes it worse | |
| I smoke blunts all day to keep my mind off them | |
| They don t stop | |
| Through my casket droptop let me ride | |
| All i want is Shatmo | |
| He s a god | |
| And it don t matter if a rapper plays | |
| Cause I cought the back of some minds | |
| the fame |
| zuò cí : Walter Burns Tyruss Himes Maurice Harding | |
| zuò qǔ : Walter Burns Tyruss Himes Maurice Harding | |
| It was a dope spot from y all | |
| One on one strappin | |
| That s the way it was when the four of us was strappin | |
| I m a in class from the Gs in the hood | |
| Puttin worth, did some dirt | |
| Now a snitch never would | |
| Blowin fat jag blunts with my nigga P | |
| Growin up | |
| Time comin back sippin Henessey | |
| We said we seniors are old | |
| And I felt like a god man bitch | |
| And i had my pickup ' 85 bitches | |
| And my family was known to be great | |
| See Syke Moore representin no matter who sets it on | |
| Street power | |
| Why you niggas flip and you thug shit | |
| I be by my mother in grip | |
| Numba nos | |
| Cause we three million minds | |
| Remember that | |
| Damn its a shame | |
| But still I m in the game | |
| I m tryin to get street fame | |
| Don t blame my mama | |
| Don t blame my daddy | |
| I know they wish they never had me | |
| In and out of jail by 12 | |
| Failing out of school | |
| Cause I was livin by the street rules | |
| Hangin with hoes | |
| Droppin dawgs as a little loot | |
| I was gettin my respect but i was still rude | |
| Into the game and slang | |
| Into the mother ing | |
| With em double ups | |
| We slangin them whole things | |
| Hey I just told my mail man | |
| You hangin like a bail | |
| And even with no proof they gonna put me in jail | |
| Everbody says he s sold and I m outta control | |
| Mother ers gossip and I still roll | |
| Bitches want my cash on my dash on my pacvit | |
| They wouldn t know a mother er if he didn t have shit | |
| So while I m ballin and kickin up dust | |
| Get your score fresh | |
| Bitches made niggas know not to with us | |
| Cause I m livin on the edge | |
| I m blastin lead | |
| Wanted by the feds they got to take me dead | |
| So it try to work it in the inner city | |
| In the land of no pity | |
| I made it by the street fame | |
| Super storm made it by street fame | |
| I had to make some people feel the pain | |
| In this dirty game | |
| I know I m on my way to hell | |
| Hey yo gather it up for all the niggas that have been smoked | |
| The hood that took me under | |
| A nigga gots the heart | |
| Don t get it twisted cause I m mad with my homey s score | |
| I kill for my niggas, my niggas kill for me | |
| That s the love you get from your drug for you pootie | |
| It works, see? | |
| I m a G | |
| Would a gang of niggas have to reach and appeal me | |
| Cause I smoked their homey | |
| Well don t feel proud | |
| Cause around here thats what makes it worse | |
| I smoke blunts all day to keep my mind off them | |
| They don t stop | |
| Through my casket droptop let me ride | |
| All i want is Shatmo | |
| He s a god | |
| And it don t matter if a rapper plays | |
| Cause I cought the back of some minds | |
| the fame |
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