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Straight outta the motherf**kin pissy hallways in the projects
To park in a four door Bentley on my set.
Same hood, same motherf**kin steps
I sat on and took the plastic off of "Life After Death"
Bangin, boning Biggie Biggie i did a 360
The Aftermath for that is the ni**a 50 aint wit me.
No hard feelings, we both made millions
You can hate me or love me but ni**a I spit real sh*t,
like I'm comatose, tell the Doc I'm sick
Before "Detox", let me take my last chronic hit.
Now I am gangsta rap inhale the w**d smoke
And coughed up five platinum plaques
So Ima let the ni**a Dr. Dre hit
Next time I have dreams of f**kin an R&B b**ch (dreams of f**kin an R&B b**ch)
I don't make love, I make hits.
I put a condom on and stuff my dick in this Hip Hop sh*t.
Feels Good
Gangsta
Im that six figure ni**a
Who got the word from KRS-ONE
and stole the Blueprint from Jigga
Niggas yellin Game did this, Game did that
Game aint do sh*t but bring the motherf**kin West Coast back
I hear the whisperin goin on in the hood.
I sent a motherf**kin Hallmark card to Suge
That ni**a know that we all good
So you can catch a cab to Hell wit them death threats
I'm already dead
I put the.38 revolver to my own f**kin head
before I let the sh*t eat my conscience.
Aint a ni**a in the world could tell me I can't come thru Compton.
Before I retire my Converse, I'll ride the train thru NYC with the terrorist bombers.
Somebody tell my mama I'm crazy.
Pop was a Rolling Stone so that makes me a crack baby.
I'm in rehab three times a week
because I'm a motherf**kin feen for a Dr. Dre beat.