6 in the morning, police at my door
Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor
Out my back window I make a escape
Don't even get a chance to grab my old school tape
Mad with no music, but happy cause free
And the streets to a player is the place to be
Got a knot in my pocket, weighing at least a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just living in the city is a serious task
Didn't know what the cops wanted, didn't have time to ask
Seen my homeboys cooling way way out
Told 'em bout my morning cold bugged' em out
Shot a little dice til my knees got sore
Kicked around some stories bout the night before
Posse to the corner where the fly girls chill
Threw action at some freaks until one bitch got ill
She started acting silly simply would not quit
Called us all punk pussies, said we all weren't shit
As we walked over to her, ho continued to speak
So we beat the bitch down in the goddamn street
But just living in the city is a serious task
Bitch didn't know what hit her, didn't have time to ask
Continued clocking freaks with immense posterior
Rolling in a Blazer with a louie interior
Solid gold the ride was raw, bust a left turn was on Crenshaw
Sean-e-sean was the driver, known to give freaks hell
Had a beeper goin' off like a high school bell
Looked in the mirror, what did we see?
Fucking blue lights: L.A.P.D
Pigs searched our car, their day was made
Found an Uzi, .44 and a hand grenade
Threw us in the county high power
block, no freaks to see no beats to rock
Didn't want trouble but the shit must fly,
squabbled this sucker shanked em in the eye
But just living in the county is a serious task
Nigga didn't know what got em, didn't have time to ask
Back on the streets after five and a deuce
Seven years later but still had the juice
My homeboy Ken Gee put me up the track
Told me E's rolling Villain, BJ's got the sack
Bruce is a giant - Nat C's clocking dough
Be bop's a pimp, my old freaks a hoe
The batter rams rolling, rocks are the thing
Life has no meaning and money is king
Then he looked at me slowly and Hen had to grin
He said, man you out early, we thought you got ten
Opened his safe kicked me down with cold cash
Knew I would get busy, he didn't waste time to ask
I bought a Benz with the money the rest went on clothes
Went to the strip started pimping the hoes
My hair had grew long on my seven year stay
And when I got it done on my shoulders it lay
Hard from the joint but fly to my heart
I didn't want trouble but the shit had to start
Out with my crew, some punks got loud
Shot gun blasts echoed through the crowd
Six punks hit, two punks died
All causalities was applied to their side
Human lives has to pass just for talking much trash
We didn't know who they were, no one had the time to ask
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