Intro:D-Wiz and Spice 1
"Hey yo Spice, what's goin' on man
That sound like 5-0 over there, is that 5-0?
Same mutha f**as that beat my homie down last week
But I ain't trippin' I got the 187 proof by my side it's fittin' ta be on
Is that right, but where you stayin' at man, what's goin' on
Same mutha f**in' neighborhood man
Just tryin' ta get this sh** off the ground this rap thang, ya know
Yeah I heard that sh**, let these n***as know what time it is
Yeah, check it"
Verse 1
I like to walk around my hood smokin' dank a lot
I see some brothers in the trees as they slangin' rocks
Runnin' through a broken down wooden fence
A n***a didn't have brains cause he smoked sinse
Or sess or whatever you wanna call it
He got the task on his a** better haul it
Fiends s**in' up the crack in the backyard
Dropped a pebble on the ground now he's lookin' hard
Will he keep searchin' or will he cease and just forget the hit
Or pull a jack move, and let the nine click
I'm in a cut late night about twelve o'clock
I see some brothas bustin' caps in a parkin' lot
There go my homie rollin' up in a black Vette
Nuthin' but the money for the paycheck
Another day a brother dead in the alleyway
That's what the boys in the Bay up in Cali say
The California life, task in the palm trees
Brothers be clockin' g's, slangin' keyes
Up in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Verse 2
Funk, is a part of my life
It's the sounds of the gangsta Spice
One, check out the blast of a shotgun
Nine mutha f**in' milimeter have one
Or two or three or four
Cause every brother in my hood is hardcore
Boom boom to the d**h of a cop
Pop pop pop, see another one drop
See a crazy a** n***a off the peppermint snappes
And now ya wonder why n***as slangin' hoppe
Never would'a thought I'd be a deala o' dope
n***as slangin' and bangin' and breakin' necks and throats
The spot it was poppin', but yet the fuzz kept ridin' my jock
Tick-tock, I watch the clock, they flock
See a undercover cop raise off the block
That's how it is in the game a slangin' rocks
Cause on the t.v. they make him look real good
But Mr.Rogers ain't got sh** on my n***as up in neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Verse 3
Welcome to the ghetto, although I call it my neighborhood
Some people get out, but some people stay for good
I see a dope fiend yellin' he's a O.G
He scratch his head and starts starin' like he knows me
I said what up man I seen your face before
It was my homies pop, shirt dirty, pant's tore
He had a 40 in his hand left a little swallow
He said young a** n***a and then he threw the bottle
I ducked down and I had to talk real fast
I stepped two feet back and then I ganked his a**
I started kickin' and stompin' my n***as brains out
I heard a b**h yell freeze and runnin' out the house
It was his wife and his b**h started bustin' at me
I can't believe this sh** this b**h is trigga happy
Pulled out my nine and bust the b**h in the left titty
That's how it is in a burnt-out dope fiend city
And now your sayin' I'm the n***a up to no good
I gives a f** if your bullsh** get jacked up in my neighborhood