[Chorus]

[Verse Three:]

Some of the times
I write my raps with extreme speed
Some of the times
I take the pen and make pads bleed
My mind clicks to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A lot of people die
Some nights I can't right
Stare at the blue lines
I think I'm a go blind
Then the beat becomes me
Sit in the dark
And write a whole fuckin LP
G Style, the gangsta talk
Never near soft
Hard as a knockout bout
It's no sellout
I keep crime in my rhyme
Cause it's my thing
Packed with guns
And drugs
And lots of street slang
A-B-C-D-E-F, and LAPD
Words from a motherfuckin OG
Ammo Dump pumps the sounds that you bump in your trunk
So turn it up punk
What'cha fraid of?
What'cha made of?
Pull the pin
Set the grenade off
Blastin sounds out ya jeep
On every city street, nigga
Straight gangsta beat

[Chorus]

[Verse Four:]

Many like to dress the style, and act hardcore
Many motherfuckers are and they crack jaws
I like to lay in the cut
In a nightclub
Don't smoke bud
Drink suds
But I gets loved, mack, cool
I scope the freak with the mad backs
Hit her with the gangsta style
Cool, relaxed, bam
Put her in the Benz
Bump Too $hort, let her know
Right off the top, what's my sport
You think long
You think wrong
You got it goin on, baby doll?
But I won't sing you no love song
You either love me
Or you don't
You're either rollin tonight
Or you won't
She likes the style
Cause it don't bullshit around
Tounge in my ear, real slow
And then it went down
I gotta flip into a ill mode
Pack a clip full of hype tracks
And then unload
Music for the hardcore beatdown
No weak pop shit
Strictly underground
And if you don't like the style, as I get wreck
Ease back nigga, catch a knife through the neck

[Chorus]

"Gotta Lotta Love"

[ VERSE 1 ]
Woke up the other mornin, I heard a rumor
They said the gang wars was over
I told em they was bullshittin, they said it's real as hell
Can't explain the way I felt
Too many years I seen my brothers die
And I can't say that shit was really that fly
But I used to gangbang when I was younger
So it's really hard to tell a kid that he's goin under
I never thought I lived to see us chill
Crips and Bloods holdin hands, the shit is ill
But I love it, I can't help it
Too much death on the streets, and we dealt it
Van Ness Boys, The Hoovers, The 60s
Bounty Hunters, 8-Treys, all coolin out, gee
I pray the shit'll never stop
You used to see the wrong colors, and the gats went pop-pop
But now the kids got a chance to live
And the O.G.'s got something to give
That's love, black on black, that's how they made it
And if any busters flip, they get faded
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love

[ VERSE 2 ]
I got a lotta love, cause you're all my brothers
Red or blue, black's the color
We got a chance, so we can really sweat the real fools
Show those muthafuckas the real tools
Check the enemy, it ain't the family
Not 1-11, try L.A.P.D.
They gotta understand, they beat on a blackman
There's gonna be drama, know what I'm sayin?
And if we flip, let's all flip together
Cause I'm prepared, kid, for rough weather
And we gotta realize, the boys on the east side
You call em S-A's, I call em allies
Because the day that we all unite
Watch the pigs get real polite
Punk muthafuckas gotta learn quick
That we ain't takin no more shit
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love

[ VERSE 3 ]
Crenshaw Boulevard, Sunday afternoon
Folks sittin on things, mad systems boom
The girls are lookin better
The gang truce is on, so you wear whatever
At Venice by the ocean
Rag-top Trey hits the three-wheel motion
There's gangsters all around
Still crazy sets, but you just don't clown
I pray L.A. can stay this way
It's the first summer I can really say
I felt cool, we all chilled
Went to the park, and nobody got killed
Now if you got a problem, it's man on man
You don't need a gang to solve em
I seen the greatest thing I seen in my life
Two brothers in a straight up fist fight
Nobody pulled a gat, nobody jumped in
Nobody pulled a knife, nobody got done in
L.A. is where I'm speakin of

Peace to my city, cause I got a lotta love

[ VERSE 4 ]
G-a-t-e-s, I hope you wear a vest
Even after you're out the fuckin office
Cause we're on a totally different tip
Fuck that pig brutality shit
This unity is gettin to me
Every brother on the street is my homie
I'm rollin through a hood that I never been
And every brother steps to me as a friend
I love it, I love it
And nothin in my life will ever be above it
We wanna see our kids all grown up
We're tired of seein our hoods get blown up
L.A. is a great place
Fly girls, dope cars, life at a fast pace
But gangbanging was killin it quick
Another child got hit - bullshit
Pop-pop-pop, 10 on a weekend
We was goin off to deep end
But now we got a chance, my friend
To mend, and make the colors blend
Let's all go out on a picnic, kick shit
And squash all the static
Last year I lost about five homies
This shit is real to me
L.A. is where I'm speakin of

Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love

Yo
This is goin out to all the gangbangers
All over South Central
Watts
Inglewood
All over L.A., basically
East L.A.
Youknowmsayin?
It's basically goin down
Peace to all the Crips and the Bloods
Van Ness Boys
Hoovers
Rollin 60s
83's
Bounty Hunters
Yeah
And the Jungle
This is goin out to all the brothers over there in Watts
You know what I'm sayin?
Throwin it up
Grape Street
Nutty Blocc
Front Hood
And all them niggas out there in Compton
Rollin 30s
Harlem
Ah yeah
Pueblos
Nickerson G's
Peace
Inglewood Family
18th Street
South Loc
And all the S-A homeboys
All the different sets
Every set, Crip, Blood
What doesn't matter to me
Cause I gotta love
You know what I'm sayin?
Hope the truce never ends
Youknowsayin?
We can do this

"Home Invasion"

All right! When we go up in this goddamn house
all I want is the motherfuckin' kids!
As far as pops I don't give a fuck what you do...
Bust him in his motherfuckin' head!
If he got any money, take it!
If there is money there, rob the motherfuckin' joint!
As far as moms bust her in her goddamn head!
Dumb bitch, that's the reason we're going up in there!
She don't know what the fuck she's talkin' about!

Everyone get back, this is a rap jack
I'm takin' your kids' brains, you aint gettin'em back
With a move of perfection, my dissection
Some call it lethal injection
I'm gonna fill'em with hard drums
Big drums, bitches, hoes and death, come on and get some
I'm not the nigga that you want to leave your kids alone
Cause I got my own opening-dome kit
And once again I'm gonna put them under my fuckin' spell
They might start givin' you fuckin' hell
Start changin' the way they walk
They talk, they act, now, whose fuckin' fault is that?

The home invader...

Yo, moms you can basically just suck my dick!
This is a home invasion...
Yo, pops that shit you talkin' is noise! Word! You full of shit!

Check this out, moms, I said time bomb
And they sit in your house and remain calm
Till you feed'em lies and the flip
Start talkin' crazy shit (Fuck you!)
Might call you and pops a fool
Tell ya that's why they hate school
Been offensive and askin' questions
Give your brain indigestion
Why? Why? Because I have indoctrinated the youth
Yhey're mentally intoxicated with truth
So they know the noise you talk are lies
Pretty damn soon they'll be by (I'm outta here)
They listen to me and i give'em the real
And every night caps get peeled
And every night a ho gets smacked
A fool gets jacked
Now, whose fuckin' fault was that?

The home invaders...

Yo! Yo! Yo!
All that shit you taught me, mom, was full of shit!
Know what I'm sayin'?
How the fuck you gonna tell me to run my motherfuckin' life?
Bitch! You dont even know who the fuck you are!
You talkin' about you don't like rap, you don't like how I dress!
Yo! Fuck you and pops! I'm outta here!
Both of y'all can kiss my ass...

All cops want me, so does the F.B.I.
Because my rhymes are fly
They still tryin' to stop m,e shut me down block me
Make motherfuckas boycott me
But that will never happen, it's impossible
I move straight through all obstacles
They say I'm fuckin' up the minds of little kids
But half of my fans are in college
P.M.R.C. suck my dick, please
You can kiss my ass while you're on your knees
Word! You're listening to the verbal assassinator
E's the crossfader, your factual updater
Until your cranium grows like uranium
Hard as titanium, parents, I'm blamin'em
For teachin' you lies about life, racist viewpoints
And other trite bullshit they learned back in the day
While I learned about death from an A.K.
But they'll never quite understand
Bam, bam, bam, no gat is the Walkman
Boom, bash, yeah, yo, it's goin' down
Me and Ice Cube are in town
But the fuckin' pigs cancelled the concert
They're just scared of some niggers that do work
What they do? What did I do?
Just say truth motherfucka and it's comin' through
I tell you what we did: we stole your fuckin' kids
The home invader...

All right! we got the motherfuckin' kids!
We outta here! C'mon...

"That's How I'm Livin"

I was born in new jersey, I said it before
But I guess nobody heard me
My mother died young
No sistas or brothas, I was the only son
When I was twelve my pops died too
What a brotha was supposed to do?
They sent me out West
To live with my aunt
I guess they though it was the best
But there was no love there
Growin' with no moms
I guess I was prepared to live in a vacuum
The bedroom the kitchen, the hall and the bathroom
I didn't leave home much, didn't like L.A.
Didn't have no friends to trust
Got busted to a school
Blacks and whites, I guess the shit was cool
But in highschool I changed
Didn't wanna bust, didn't wanna play the game
I walked to Crenshaw high, shit was fly
I hooked up with new cru
Some brothas that knew what the fuck to do
You might call it gang but we called it a set
And it was our own thang
The whole school was down
And one way or another everybody fucked around
When the hardcore or not
you wore the right color or your ass got shot

That's how i'm livin'...

I did three years in and made close friends
Havin' no love my homies came my only
I was glad: a family I never had
But I grew up fast got a girl on 10th grade pregnant
Needin' cash, I had to change my style
Switched from bangin' to hustlin'
No more goin' buckwild
Had to get a cashflow
But my hustle was weak, it was a no go
I join the army, four years in that shit
Be all fucked you can be
Came back to the hood
My homies had done good
Had elevated their game
About 100 gees a lick, no mothafuckin' shame
Passed for the jewels
Baby sledgehammers with the tools
I speak on this with a hesitation

Even though it passed the statue of limitation...

I checked the bank
Bought a porsche and gear, earn high streetrank
But as I grew my whole crew fell thru
Cops had us on the books as innerstate crooks
Murder robbery rape escape, the whole damn nine
You robbed a nigga blind
I had too much juice, I cut my boosters loose
I was intread with the pimpgame
Took on the ice-name
But the pimpgame moved too slow
Especially for a nigga who was hooked on quick dough
In one nite late I was in a carwreck
And I was lucky to escape
Hospital for teen weeks, in bed almost dead
And when I got well, I got gaught in a cross
And got locked in a jailcell
That's how I'm livin'...

They cutted me loose
And I had to change troops
This time they didn't catch me
Next time they'll strecth me
Cause my time was gettin' short
All my homies was in court
Or locked in a hole, this shit was gettin' old
So I changed my life
Putted down the gun and picked up the mic
It took ten years to get from there to here
But I still keep a gun, cops got me on the run
And they hate me more now
Than they ever did before
My homies came back from pen
And we all worked together
True friends but every once and while
Some punk mistakes me as a junk
And he gets in my face
Wrong mothafuckin' place
And I aint lyin', that's how you dyin'...