| Yeah (yeah) | |
| This is one of those when you put it together you make gumbo (gumbo) you dig? (I dig) | |
| I mean how can you go wrong? | |
| DJ Quik on the beat, | |
| Kurupt Young | |
| Gotti on the mic | |
| DJ Quik on the mic, | |
| I mean How can you go wrong? | |
| Yes [DJ Quik] | |
| I'ma hit you right off of the intro | |
| I don't need rap, | |
| I'm a pimp | |
| So I'm conflicted | |
| Cause I can't put hoes on the track, that's contradictin | |
| And even though | |
| I don't win no | |
| Grammys I still get love in the streets, from the pappys and mammys | |
| I'll be damned they ain't family | |
| They treat me like | |
| I flunked out of | |
| Grambling but they happy that | |
| I went on a scholarship, | |
| God damn me | |
| I know you love me if you feel this | |
| I'm not a rapper, | |
| I'm a realist | |
| And I came back just to get you on track like metro | |
| Set the stage on fire, gallon of petrol - get it all! | |
| Patron shots got me gettin drunk, want to hit it all | |
| Rap music filled with shock and awe | |
| I know you love | |
| Quik cause | |
| I'm rockin y'all | |
| Kurupt'll be here in 8 bars to spit at y'all | |
| Yeah This feel so | |
| Crenshaw right now | |
| This feelin right here is kinda takin me back to 1995 | |
| Such a familiar feeling, glad to be here! [Kurupt] | |
| Ay I'm wit'chu big homey! | |
| Me? I was born to be a | |
| G Different situations bring out a different me | |
| Soliloquies of get shit spit spastically | |
| I put that on my life, my wife, my kids and the streets | |
| I'ma rise; this shouldn't come as a surprise | |
| Open up your mind body soul and your eyes | |
| I improve, intertwine, improvise | |
| Impatient at some times when | |
| I grind When | |
| I (BlaQKout), my thoughts is my eyes | |
| But I can see e'rything in sight like they lied | |
| You might not like this, you might not care | |
| I might tell you somethin you don't really wanna hear | |
| I plan to take a couple of you niggaz on a journey | |
| You can come with me willingly or leave on a gurney | |
| Gargantuan, cannon cocker | |
| BLAKA BLAK | |
| A BLAKA Motherfucker | |
| Kurupt a couple percussions | |
| Passed around like "8Ball" when | |
| Eric was alive | |
| Step up in the club, and take a look inside | |
| And BlaQKout [echoes] out out out |
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