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