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Chillin in my own hood 87's on the corner |
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The loc'est side in Vallejo California |
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But I must warn you it's dangerous on my side of the way |
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That is why we bump the sounds that get down the lay |
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Straight mugsta a thugsta that's getting paid |
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Too fast spliffs in my half of game will make'em pay |
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The month of may is when I first started my grinds |
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Slanging brakes even cake in eighty-nine |
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Things was fine cuz brothers wasn't front in black |
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Now what do I know thangs was way too wack |
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Cuz everytime I turn my back there was a new one on the scene |
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Saying a little bit of nuthing will get in paid green |
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On magazines rapping the hoes and the whole nine |
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That ol punk shit makes me leave the grind |
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And go full time in my whole rap career |
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Cuz I scrap with the raps that you love to hear |
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Sipping on beer and dojies from the dank spot |
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I hit the spliffs and split my shit and now I can't stop |
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Pushing crack rock only on the strips and alleyways |
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It's gangsta lay from the v straight from the cali main |
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What we caught and shit we bag it up and chop it down cut rates |
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Sell weights pound for pound |
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Check out the product me show you think you can get served |
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And if you got with the rest of the nigga to the curb |
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Beat down to the ground that like he's there |
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That's how it's done with a muthafucking loc'est playa |
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The crazy ants spicey ohh and my cousin tay |
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Riding waves just get a magazine in my niggas main |
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Macking mic lil twan me and spoon d gp and big g and lil reek |
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Loccest solja smoking doja |
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And paying the cops no mind why |
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[Chorus x3] |
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Sticking to the grind |
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Gotta make that many |
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[Young Lay] |
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Engine itching is number nine sticking to the fucking grind |
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And if that bitch is in your scratch let the nine give her depth |
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Put the gat down her throat diggity down deeper though |
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Time to let a hoe know that I'm all about the flow |
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I'm know on my side the loccest side ride like that cold turkey |
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And keep a strap in my black derby |
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So when I got it on then I'm rocking a microphone |
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Nigga let it alone for the set ring it on |
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Got my cudee crazy het in the back of me |
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Young juve's from the lowest place young face clocking g'z |
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And something will be stopping his mail I let the coat sold some dope now |
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Cari got me clocking man |
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[Chorus x3] |
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[Young Lay] |
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Mr. muthafucka musta brought the niggas |
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Looking at the nuts I'm about to but some nuts in you |
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Fucking mouth cuz you's about being a bitch |
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And everytime I turn my back you nose is in my shit |
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I stack pay and hustle hard everyfucking day |
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Payed it to myself even though rapping keep though suckers away |
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But niggas be up on the dick like it's the fucking thing to do |
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I hit the locest strip seen somebody slanging too |
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They ain't from the crew |
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So they muggs on me but what you trying to do fool |
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Make some green trick you ain't no hoe |
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You aint' no dope pushers |
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See niggas be hitting ninety dope rest in the bushes |
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Trying to knock my game coming through they must be curious |
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Cuz I'm slanging things that make a few bangs go delirious |
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It's just like the seventh day when a young playa wakes up |
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Get my pager I got to pagers to make these feens think I'm faking or what |
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My shirt I tuck then I put on my dirby cotton heens |
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Hooked up with the crew now we sitting in a group steady serving the feens |
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Hoes dwell off the sales and I'm liking the broad |
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And off to Josie off the dank I had to make the fall |
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[Chorus] |
