fuck the haters
this is as clean a verse as has been spit in the bay
i got my mind on my money, my money on my mind,
it's east oakland homie, where the sun don't shine,
i been on the grind, you cats don't know,
you thinkin' it's a game, untill you meet the fo' fo',
i'm kinda humble, but kinda sneaky at the same time,
i either hit you with the rhyme , or the glock nine,
i escalade major in the streets, my niggas don't eat,
then they resort to the heat, they make up a beat,
with fifteen shots, sound like a 50cent track when we play it back,
dawg, where i'm from it's not nice,
do you know what it took to get the platinum and the ice
do you know what it took to get the benz on dubs,
you don't wanna be that cat to show ski no love,
when push comes to shove, we move straight weight,
we lost the superbowl, but we won the homicide rate,
straight up, i'm a raider, nigga, straight up, you a hater, baller blocker
when the streets come knockin at the door,
don't act like you don't know what the hell we comin for,
hood love, we gone be heard, nigga, and that's my word,
so get some act right before we act right now
or feel the @(#*# from the beatdown