| Tie on a bandana, then we lay him out
|
| Fighting over two colours in the crayon box
|
| It’s no love
|
| It’s no love
|
| 40 ounces in my cup, I’m po’d up
|
| We out here killing each other, but so what?
|
| Keep it up and there’s gon' be no Crips and no Bloods
|
| Nigga take a look around, the crack game has slowed up
|
| The government versus the people, now tell me
|
| Who rules the world with only one desire?
|
| I don’t believe there’s anything higher
|
| Rather get it now than to read about the outcome
|
| I’d rather have the crown, than a ribbon or medallion
|
| And oh my days, I guess it’s okay
|
| If I lay up in the shade with my rent up in the mattress
|
| But be at the course if I have to use patience
|
| I’m shooting a premature dream in the napkin
|
| Battling the evils in the flesh that I’m wrapped in
|
| Waiting for my eagle, but the seagulls are distracting
|
| What’s happening, niggas? |
| Mm
|
| What’s happening? |
| Hm
|
| What’s happening?
|
| What’s happening? |
| Mm
|
| What’s happening?
|
| Mm, yeah
|
| What’s happening? |
| My nigga just died from Aids
|
| What’s happening? |
| ISIS throwing grenades
|
| What’s happening? |
| White boys shooting up a church
|
| What’s happening? |
| My nigga 2−2 just got some work
|
| What’s happening? |
| You can get it if you got it, nigga
|
| But I ain’t got it, nigga, I’m just a solid nigga
|
| Who run Compton, fuck bitches and flick Impala switches
|
| Even if I was born blind, you niggas couldn’t stop my vision
|
| Right on time with mine thanks to them old Doc prescriptions
|
| West side flourishing again, this what 2Pac envisioned
|
| Obama freeing lifers, that was locked in prison
|
| El Chapo said he ran the world, and they forgot to listen
|
| Not me, nigga, one split second, I say «Fuck rap»
|
| And if I ran into El Chapo, he had work as one his captains
|
| And gave me 100 bricks and said «Migo, get it bracking»
|
| I walk into a Mexican Mafia meeting like
|
| What’s happening? |
| Pac’s gone, Brenda’s still got a baby
|
| What’s happening? |
| Lost ones in the land of the crazy
|
| What’s happening? |
| You can have a bad bitch in a Mercedes
|
| But that don’t make your basic ass Beyonce or Jay-Z
|
| What’s happening? |
| Obama 'bout to move out the White House
|
| What’s happening? |
| Couple hood niggas 'bout to roll them dice out
|
| What’s happening? |
| Is you gon' let me use your EBT card (yeah)
|
| I wonder if I could slide it for commissary, yah
|
| Ain’t it a shame?
|
| Another lost one running again
|
| (You know I bust my thang for you)
|
| You do the same old thing that your brothers did before you
|
| Planning your whole life under concrete in the soil
|
| Just a continuation, I wonder where you get your game from
|
| If I know anything it’s that my old head taught me all alone
|
| And it’s a cold game, better get your coat, get your snow chains, man
|
| It’s a chess game full of kings and pawns
|
| Black and white squares, just depends what side you on
|
| (What side is you on?)
|
| I want a red '64 Impala with them things on it
|
| Black out inside an abandoned crack house
|
| Only thing from last night was dead bodies and glass pipes
|
| That was the age 4, and by the age 10
|
| They opened up the caged doors and let the fucking beast out
|
| Fuck my auntie couch, I’m 'bout to take the street route
|
| And get my shit the gangsta way, cause I can’t be no Steve Stoute
|
| I’m too Nas for these niggas, I got a surprise for these niggas
|
| Potato cooking on the barrel, I bring the fries to these niggas
|
| Funeral hall, casket fit to the size of you niggas
|
| Chrome 45, no lie, come say goodbye to you niggas
|
| Sway got all the answers, Kanye lied to you niggas
|
| I don’t even wanna be in no top 5 with you niggas
|
| I break ties with you niggas, then pay tithes for you niggas
|
| Los Angeles king, I will no fly zone you niggas
|
| Take a caravan and Impalas and drive to you niggas
|
| Close one and aim, Fetty Wap’s eye to you niggas
|
| Ain’t it a shame?
|
| Another lost one running again
|
| (You know I bust my thang for you)
|
| You do the same old thing that your brothers did before you
|
| Planning your whole life under concrete in the soil
|
| Just a continuation, I wonder where you get your game from
|
| If I know anything it’s that my old head taught me all alone
|
| And it’s a cold game, better get your coat, get your snow chains, man
|
| It’s a chess game full of kings and pawns
|
| All I ever wanted was to ride my '64 down 'Shaw
|
| Uh, I’ma spit them verses for my niggas
|
| Dreams coming true, don’t it always paint a perfect picture |