调：D minor•
Intro 1
Dm
Gm
Verse 1
gangsta shit?
niggas is mad at me?
y 'all ain't bad as me
from a half a key?
do the math with me
That would be...
why don't you tell me the amount?
notice please
I'll be right there when your mics blow out
And when your lights go out,
With the same ice, the light of your house
gunfire wipe you out
End of the session, fuck with me now
At this very second running your place
one gun in your face
I got one prior
don't catch fire
one clippin' eye
I swear to God
but nigga is white clout
you know Jay -Z spot him
and you know how it come
the corner dialin' 911
you're supposed to be thug
I'm takin' your money and drugs
we take care of beef ourself
or don't sell cocaine
so get out the game
nigga, and pray hard
y 'all, fuck
We got the gangsta, gangsta shit
Pop guns and rock jewels
I get to blazin'
Keep cokin' sugar bowls,
And never fuck they own
us sweatin'
Rippin' the chrome, communa
they tappin' the telephones
and send her down
hustle behind me
it's hittin' me blindly
baby, and here it is
the darker the night gets
We got that gangsta gangsta shit
We got
Dm
Gm
Dm
'all don't know what it is
It's how we do this
You heard?
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