| Hey yo Spice, what’s goin' on man
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| That sound like 5−0 over there, is that 5−0?
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| Same muthafuckas that beat my partner down last week
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| But I ain’t trippin' I got the 187 proof by my side it’s finna be on
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| Is that right? |
| But where you stayin' at man, what’s goin' on?
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| Same muthafuckin' neighborhood, man
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| Just tryin' ta get this shit off the ground, this rap thang, ya know
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| Yeah I heard that shit, let these niggas know what time it is
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| Yeah, check it
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| I like to walk around my hood smokin' dank a lot
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| I see some brothers in the trees as they slangin' rocks
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| Runnin' through a broken down wooden fence
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| A nigga didn’t have brains 'cause he smoked sinse
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| Or sess or whatever you wanna call it
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| He got the task on his ass better haul it
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| Fiends suckin' up the crack in the backyard
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| Dropped a pebble on the ground, now he’s lookin' hard
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| Will he keep searchin' or will he cease and just forget the hit?
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| Or pull a jack move, and let the nine click
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| I’m in a cut late night about twelve o’clock
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| I see some brothas bustin' caps in a parkin' lot
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| There go my homies rollin' up in a black 'Vette
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| Nuthin' but the money for the paycheck
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| Another day a brother dead in the alleyway
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| That’s what the boys in the Bay up in Cali say
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| The California life, task in the palm trees
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| Brothers be clockin' G’s, slangin' keys
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| Up in my neighborhood
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| In my neighborhood
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| Funk is a part of my life
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| It’s the sounds of the gangsta Spice
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| One, check out the blast of a shotgun
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| Nine muthafuckin' milimeter have one
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| Or two or three or four
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| 'Cause every brother in my hood is hardcore
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| Boom, boom to the death of a cop
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| Pop, pop, pop, see another one drops
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| Crazy ass nigga off the peppermint Schnapps
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| And now ya wonder why young niggas slangin' hoppe
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| Never would’ve thought I’d be a deala o' dope
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| Niggas slangin' and bangin' and breakin' necks and throats
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| The spot it was poppin', but yet the fuzz kept ridin' my jock
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| Tick-tock, I watch the clock, they flock
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| See a undercover cop raise off the block
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| That’s how it is in the game of slangin' rocks
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| 'Cause on the TV they make him look real good
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| But Mr. Rogers ain’t got shit on my niggas up in the neighborhood
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| In my neighborhood
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| Welcome to the ghetto, although I call it my neighborhood
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| Some people get out, but some people stay for good
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| I see a dope fiend yellin' he’s a O. G
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| He scratched his head and started starin' like he knows me
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| I said «What up old man? |
| I seen your face before»
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| It was my homie’s pop, shirt dirty, pants tore
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| He had a 40 in his hand, left a little swallow
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| He said «Young ass nigga» and then he threw the bottle
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| I ducked down and I had to duck real fast
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| Stepped two feet back and then I banged his ass
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| I started kickin' and stompin' my nigga’s brains out
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| I heard a bitch yell «Freeze» and runnin' out the house
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| It was his wife and the bitch started bustin' at me
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| I can’t believe this shit, this bitch is trigga happy
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| Pulled out my nine and bust the bitch in the left titty
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| That’s how it is in a burnt-out dope fiend city
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| And now your sayin' I’m the nigga up to no good
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| I gives a fuck if your bullshit get jacked up in my neighborhood
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| In my neighborhood |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song In My Neighborhood, artist - Spice 1. Album song Let It Be Known, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп