| Yeah, 2−0 an OG since I first came out
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| DTP is the gang and yeah we will bang out
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| I had one close call, no the mac didn’t miss
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| The bullet looked, saw it was me, and it jumped back in the clip
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| It’s the gangs where I’m from, but most the sides is ours
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| So if a nigga talking shit, we’ll just ride this song
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| And be careful wat you saying when you under your breath
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| And throw up signs like the whole neighborhood’s gone deaf
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| Now nigga that’s gangsta, no words spoken
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| Just one head nod and your head’s bust open
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| This whole cool team we only got one question
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| In about three seconds, which side are you reppin
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| We used to throw hands, now it’s blast on blast
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| You got a pass from the homey now the pass gone past
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| Watch the colors on your rag in the pockets you rock em
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| And the way you braid your hair, cause real niggas is watching, YEAH
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| Gangsta forever I’m leaving it never
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| It’s been done for life and it’s done in all weather
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| Like it or love it, I ain’t for no dumb shit
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| When you in the street, you see the niggas you should run with
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| Cause we keeps it clean
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| When most of them gangstas lean
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| Here they come, here we come, cause a scene then they run
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| Go and get your gun, and smoke that shit when you done
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| And oh yeah I’m affiliated (a rider is born)
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| And if you want I can demostrate it (try all you want)
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| Man, lets get this one started bitch, I’m banging your set
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| The first down south nigga with a westcoast rep
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| 1 album, 5 months, I’m number one in the hood
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| A low-low 3 wheels, 2 hoes and I’m good
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| Pull the gat, squeeze something nigga put 'em to sleep
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| Even these techs mean something nigga, read 'em and weap
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| You grinding hard to get yours while the getting is good
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| You got jumped in the club just for repping your hood
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| Eastside D-E-C, where nobody’s a punk
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| We’ll pull something out the trunk, then put you in the trunk
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| Look, everybody’s ghetto, nigga, follow the rules
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| We throw a party when you come home from jail, not school
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| It sound sad but it’s love nigga, leave it at that
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| And every bitch love a street nigga, this is a fact, C’mon
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| And I was born in the hood, so I’ll die for the cause
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| Niggas think it’s all good 'til I swing on their boss
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| (Gangsta, Gangsta) where every screamining it
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| But ain’t nobody meaning it, cause I know I ain’t seeing it
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| Real thugs don’t party they just hold up the wall
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| And buy bottles just in case they wanna start up a brawl
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| It’s an everyday thing nigga, home of the pen
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| Where niggas wear the same color like it’s part of they skin
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| Down south or out West, look it’s one in the same
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| Dark read or all blue, shit it’s all in the gang
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| You better watch your handshake when you greeting your boys
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| Cause if they know your man fake, they’ll be heating your boys
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| Even the bitches get down when they knowing it’s beef
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| They got her man in the pen and her kids in the street
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| It’s the neighborhood bullshit I gotta admit
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| But I’ll be thuggin 'til they bury me, I’m loving this shit |