(Verse 1 – Nipsey Hussle)
Count this dough up
Call my name, I’m gon show up
Young party, pour up
Quarter pint in my soda
Now picture me rolling
My feet 12, that’s twin turbo
F**k with that Gelardo
But the rari out the fur though
Yeah, boy Fergal
We candle your curbo
Police can’t control us
They just react to these murders
Tank our ni**as off
And be back in the morning
Last time was a walk up
Now we popping out the foreign
Sticking to the script
I got too many stories
Talk just like a bi**h
Think got too many mories
Who’s left to sink the ship
Bank the levy like New Orleans
I always move in silence
Except when I’m recording
(Verse 2 – Y2)
Mama raise the king
Wasn’t fit to be a doctor
Product of my environment
Sirens and helicopters
Murder, kidnap for capital’s
Only one half of the problem
Prices on top of heads
Go through hell just to get that dollar
Rich and dangerous in the City of Angels
Everything about me, slow in Los Angeles
Everyone around me still bang, don’t bang with us
Disrespect us and we owe your neck if you don’t hang with us
It’s Los Angeles