| On a high speed chase they recognize my plates
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| Wanted for a 187 in three states
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| Got my glock cock, mind is ill mental
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| Blastin’at one time through my back window, shit
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| Sick individual, murder was my ritual
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| Mashin’in a hard top four, all original
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| Bout a dozen of cops all behind me Mad as fuck cause Ice Cube is my crimey
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| Like a missile launch led from my pistol
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| Jumpin’hills like the streets of San Francisco
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| Hard tryin’to stump him, reload my dumper
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| Hit the ground, lost my hubcaps and my back bumper
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| A hundred and ten, Westbound on the freeway
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| Bo guardin’traffic cause I do shit the G way
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| Hard to survive, lit up a 45
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| No alive instead Mack 10 wanted dead
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| And it’s on, stick to the fire, loop get me high
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| Drop the four in low, as I smoke the back tires
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| Peddle to the floor in a bucket low low
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| One time trailin', hittin’corners, fish tailin'
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| I continue to cap as the gap starts to pull again
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| Mashin’through Fullerton, a all points bulletin
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| Wigs get pilled, nigga, runnin’from the kill
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| Bugs flyin’into my grill and windshield
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| Never see trial, say fck tryin’to stretch me Mack 10 a fuckin’dead man if they catch me Stompin’through red lights, no headlights on my vehicle
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| 5150 is my penal code
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| I empty the clips when I carry’em, aimin’to bury’em
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| Nigga fresh out the sanitarium
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| LAPD tryin’to blow off my beanie
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| Want the whole world to see me Put my face on TV, for real
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| Fuck this shit, if they catch me I’ma goner
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| Runnin’for my life, I continue to hit corners
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| With my heat, 50 rounds deep
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| Nigga, goin’down, holdin’trial in the street, fuck it If it’s on like that
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| It’s about who’s nuts is fat
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| And who’s straightest with they gat, for real
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| That’s how it be, livin’like a G It’s better them than me facin’strike number three
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| Heel no, I can’t fuck with the lock down
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| Mack 10'll grab the Mack 10
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| And set the glock down and I’m runnin'
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| Freeze was my order, cappin’at they ass
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| As I hit the border and I’m gone |