[Hook 1]
You b**hes just don't realize livin' in the hood is do or die
He was once a thug from around the way
He was once a thug from around the way
[Verse 1: Al Kapone]
It all started back in the day when a n***a was slangin' rocks
Just like Pac, me against the world the sh** just never stop
Straight out the mob terrace back in 1989
Mouth fulla gold new fur curl
Tryna come up, sellin' quarters and dimes
Everybody in my hood knew a n***a was straight
From the jump I had to come real
Just like my n***a Big Will
Watchin' out for the cops
Jumpin', grab for the knots
Broke a** [jockers?] with fake a** j**elry try'na come up one the rock
(My n***a talked [?] let me know who is true)
Never say your sh** to a motherf**er you don't know, fool
The number one rule
(Because them undercover tricks be try'na pop a call)
Bashing there money ain't got no d**, get the f** on
But every then and now a n***a had to take a chance
It's all about coming up and only the strong survive
Fools, so what's up
f** singing a sad song I got's to get my hustle on
[Hook 2]
He was once a thug from around the way
He was once a thug from around the way
You b**hes just don't realize livin' in the hood is do or die
[Verse 2: Al Kapone]
Everyday is a struggle, sh**s always on my mind
Looking for a way out, but it seems like a n***a just can't find
Got to keep feeling like Marvin Gaye, I'm just a troubled man
Gotta get myself a plan
Get on my feet know what I'm sayin'?
So, I'm hooking up with my n***a
Said he gon' f** a quarter pound
On some California chronic and Memphis
Man, you know I'm down
Got my beeper from [?]
Brother from Just who plays my c's
Holla my dawg, money by decade
Get it crunk in Dixie Queen
Cocaine Wayne set up chopper on wigs
(Haters look to [?])
This is how we do this sh**
(Bring the whole motherf**ing click)
Real n***as work together don't matter how good or bad the weather
DDT doing there damn thang, fool what ever's clever
Keep them cross outs the f** out of our business
When a n***a be doin' dirt them honky a** cops be looking for snitches
And you know we can't afford to let'em catch asleep
No more being a** out, mane
We gotta get on our feet
[Hook 2]
[Verse 3: Taylor Boy]
Big Glocks and nut locks take a listen
Cause I'm about to take you on a motherf**ing mission
Black gat it's t-shirt, fresh gut and grey chucks
380 on my side and in my pockets bra** knucks
I finna hit the steets where ain't no love for a n***a
I gotta stay strapped, cause in 1928 ain't no k**er
Ain't no ice on feet, so why in the hell should I be slippin'
Puttin' in works the only way I make a livin'
Been a g it's wroten I don't wanna be [?]
Livin' on the edge of my goddamn life
Now fools talk sh** to gert the upper hand
But in the end they find out what a man, what a man, what a man
Because I'm taking a s**er and hangin' him up like soap on the rope
Ease back motherf**cer cause ain't no goddam joke
[Busters short pants saggin' rouhgh neck style]
Another n***a with his finger on the trigger, going buck wild
[Hook 2]