| Supa Good in this bitch, the 'Wood in this bitch
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| 'Bout to school these niggas like only I could in this bitch
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| Here by myself and I still got the whole hood in this bitch
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| Claiming new stomping grounds, gon' leave my whole foot in this bitch
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| Ankle-deep and it’s painful
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| My handkerchief is a spangled banner
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| With the blood of black sons of slaves, uh
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| Painting people’s depictions
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| Won’t be no sequel, afflictions
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| Made me the true nigga that I am today, uh
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| Did my homework in class
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| Walked the halls with no pass
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| Eleventh grade, I had it made, held my balls when I laughed
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| My older brother sang and SiR chose to ball for his pass
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| I chose to get perfect grades and catch fades in the grass
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| Seven Gang was the clique, it wasn’t no Blood or no Crip
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| Was more like fraternity ties mixed with bare knuckles and clips
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| My big homie saw something in me, said fuck hitting licks and pistols
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| Your test scores gon' hit the lick with pencils, teaching credentials
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| I never got 'em, they said wasn’t a problem
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| I sent that application they said, «You start tomorrow, where else
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| We gon' find a nigga black and fluent in Spanish?
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| Might as well use it to our advantage»
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| I went right back to Inglewood (Inglewood)
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| Inglewood (Inglewood)
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| Inglewood (Inglewood)
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| Inglewood
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| I’m from Inglewood (Inglewood), Inglewood
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| Inglewood High (Inglewood, Inglewood)
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| From Inglewood ('Wood)
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| Inglewood ('Wood)
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| Inglewood, Inglewood (Inglewood)
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| Inglewood, Inglewood
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| Inglewood High |