| Oh yeah…
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| You know what I’m sayin'…
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| We peel mothafuckin’cops around here…
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| You can’t come around here talkin’that shit
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| You’ll get a mothafuckin’bullet in your head and wind up dead
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| You know what I’m sayin', I’ll send you home in a bodybag you fag
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| And I’m 'a tell you somethin’right now —
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| don’t come to the alley with that bullshit
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| Hey Ren, who’s talkin’shit?
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| Hey nigga where that shit happenin’at lo'?
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| Right up my alley I see things and scenes
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| But you know it ain’t over 'till the black nigga sings
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| And he’s singin’the blues and holdin’shoes
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| While he’s zippin’off booth
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| 'Cuz every week he see a nigga’s killed in the news
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| In the alley all the hard hits kicking
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| Don’t permit the suckerz cuz they ride the mothafuckaz
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| Niggaz gettin’high and high 'till they grw-p (grow-up)
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| So fucked up — they start shootin’at the cops
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| So ladies complain but there ain’t shit they can do Or run dead in the house slap the bitches with a shoe
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| I sell my dope and I ain’t ashamed to say it Cuz I got Benz and mothafuckaz won’t pay it In the alley — Bitches sell pussy real cheap
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| Waitin''round the trick when the fucka fall asleep
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| Bitches 15−16 got the claps
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| And crabs in their pussy crawl around in the naps
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| Sometime ho’s would tore jams in the toes
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| 30 ass cloth, with boogers in their nose
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| Roamin', Roamin’lookin’for dick to suck
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| Walk around in the dayz like they don’t give a fuck
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| IN THE ALLEY.
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| Hey man, look at these mothafuckin’basehead bases …
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| Nigga you pop a gang of shit but ah nigga
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| Where you from?
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| Right up my alley niggaz trip cars that they stole
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| And niggaz outside look for wayz to get swole
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| Takin’turns, zippin’on the 40 oz Poppin’some funky shit by the D.O.C
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| I’m with my nigga little nation or my homey named snoop
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| My nigga DJ train he hittin’corner in de coop
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| Pullin’up I give him gat — axin’if he pullin’work
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| Lookin’like a straight G — with some cockeis and a T-shirt
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| We sit at the table wrappin’bones
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| While the little BG’z fight with the sticks and the stones
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| Tryin’to get a name for the self yo but why
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| So all the little buckets gettin’the G into a driveby
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| Take down some rifles 'cross-town
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| They’re back to the alley where they can’t be found
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| Police come around and try to find 'em
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| But the whole fuckin’scene is standing right there behind them
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| Open up fire on the pigs now they cook
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| They did’nt know what hit 'em cuz the niggaz had to get 'em
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| IN THE ALLEY.
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| Officers down, officers down, we need assistance in the alley.
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| You’re talkin’shit but where was you nigga?
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| Standin’in the alley with my nigga Juvinalle for a while
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| This nigga try to rush it but the fool was livin’fall
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| Tryin’to get a name pretended on the wrong wayz
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| My brother cock de fuck out to his ass in the dayz
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| People crowded 'round like a fly on shit
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| Everybody had to stand cuz there ain’t nowhere to sit
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| This little punk he was new to the alley
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| He grew up with some white mothafuckaz in the valley
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| Now he’s on his back lookin’up in all these faces
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| I bet he won’t open up his mouth in no more places
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| And he don’t know, he won’t go but now he has to go My brother picked him up and started hittin’him some more
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| Then every nigga had to get a turn
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| To make sure that this mothafucka learn
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| Niggaz kickin’him — hittin’him with bricks
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| Check it, and my homey lit his big ball bite off his dick
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| And to top it off he pulled my brother at the scene
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| He emptied up his click with the whole 15
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| IN THE ALLEY. |