Black six-four, gold Daytons roam
And hit the block non stop n***a straight out bone
And just pa**ing through, didn't have no strap
Point my finger at your a**es says smoke like that
Hit your enemy block, rolling four cars deep
Two Chevs, one 'Lac and a IROC-Z
Riding low shotgun gauge ready to peel
Windows down, top drop, bumpin' Realer Than Real
Hit the block, gauge co*ked, hangin' over the do'
Seven shot, one squeeze, ride pump, ya know?
Never slip in the streets of the Garden Block
'Cause muthaf**as get smoked a lot
Hit the flow and I come, you try to run you get gunned down
Four deep on the creep, I'm about to put your a** to sleep
And ain't no sense in locking up the door
'Cause one kick from one the cliques we'll be in that hoe
So make way as I unload my A-K on your house
Then degrade as I take one of your closest family members out
It's the Bo, I thought you knew, oh punk you didn't know?
Well meet my forty-four (four, four, four, four)
Face to face we shoot out with the next hood
On the creep, they say the Bo-loc's no good
And it's your a** that got me pulling a mask, popping a cap
Want me to tap daddy on that a** with my mask?
It's all for one and one for all
f**ing with the Bo and I'll be bustin' and getting AWOL
Pulling a gat, going in for the big jack
Caught them fools on they back
Woke them up with the mac, now give me the scrap
'Cause that's how we living in ninety-three
I watch my back plus I'll be strapped 'cause ain't no jacking see
So don't try, this punk tried denyin' I knew was lying
I started firing, now one at a time they all retirin'
Close range, living in strange, can't be tame
I pull the mac and take the police out the f**ing game
I been a slave, and I ain't going back
Police jacked with the intentions to sendin' it back