[Verse 1: Cellski]
Yeah
Started off selling dope with twenty dollars
Doubled my money, made forty, bought a fifty shot from this baller
Cut it down to ten shots at two knots
Made one twenty on the block and now I got to go re-cop
A quarter ounce so I can bounce up to a whole
And so son made some money back now I'm foldin'
A little mail making sales copping zips now
Getting my money on sewing up my side of town
Getting fetti, now I'm ready to be the f**ing man
Trying to serve weight instead of having rocks in my hand
Just yesterday my double ups just bubbled up
Having all kinda dead presidents in my pockets crumpled up
Stacking mail, clientele is what I'm buildin'
In my buildin', straight dope fiends with ghetto children
That's how I'm livin', been livin' it since a baby
No if, ands no maybes and that's why a n***a just go crazy
Or maybe it's the dank that make me think and stress
With this nine make a n***a undress and cop to a less
I'm just a young thug, selling dope and d**
The city that I'm from really ain't got no love
The inner-city hoodlums shootin' up the block
Because last week my n***a was on they side and he got popped
And my n***as tryin' to go the right route
And that right there keep a n***a stressed out
I'm stressed out, mayne
[Verse 2: SB of UNLV]
With the realest n***as trigger-happy all off in Cali
Jacking everything from a pizza man to a taxi now see
We in this game we make D though
In my truck with my socket tools and a Desert Eagle
Off some dodo serving 'caine, keeps me cautious [?]
But now I'm living that fast life, push the pedal to the floor
So, this game I developed from my older brother
Maintain my paper and the hookers never to put before your business
My potnas lowriders on the corner swang get his yola
Back with Berettas, we poppin' coppers
Real hustlers serving these baseheads hubbas
Now seeing this cream's making a k**ing
And I'm on my turf jookin', keeps a grip in my pocket of my Pendleton
f** them rollers rollin' violently when boomin'
Seems a gang of folks come out when the set be movin'
Them crack addicts, them dice shootas
Them doped-out baseheads gone on that hoota
A n***a stressed out
[Verse 3: Baldhead Rick of UNLV]
Stressin', stressin' as f** when a n***a gotta duck
From the n***a bustin at your a** in a Datsun buck'
So your best bet is to hit the cuts and creep
Grab your H-K gun, n***a that's done so you can put these n***as to sleep
Kids are bustin' and bustin' 'em while they tossin' me up
From the bang, pop shake them more, bust
Now these f*ggot n***as are smashin' through the cuts
That's what I thought, f**in' with this boy, a G
Raised up in the back of the God damn f**in' U-N-L-V streets
San Fran-psycho, the land of the lunatic
Where n***as will put the gun in your mouth and unload the whole clip
Ruthless when the [?] got down, f**in' riders that's down with [?]
Case we gotta spend some on the marks like them f**in [?]
Blastin' the task with a face mask keepin' away from the jackin'
Because I'm a black a** ghetto inner-city hoodlum a**a**in
A violent n***a known for packin' a tec, a Smith & Wess
Decapitate n***a's heads up quick, put fifteen holes in your chest
Because a n***a like me takes the stress off the day
Too many stressed out bosses that's in this mine field go blank
'Cause a n***a readdy to take out a baller with the clout
Me and Swoop and U-N-L-V and Cellski straight stressed out
[Lil Swoop]
Got a nine, your a** is in the line of fire
Put a pause on your life now you'll just retire
'Cause when you f** with Swoop you get f**ed real quick
Bucks on that a**, like I was Steve Seagal, b**h
It's that real [?], got that choice you better feel me
In k**a Cali, where n***as show no f**in' pity
About a b**h at all, never sip that eight ball
But pop me some of that Hen' and that Mad Dog
Twenty twenty, I got ten on a twomp sack
Let's roll it up, blow it up, get lit, 'cause it's borin' on the track
And plus them rollers out all damn day y'all
Let's dodge 'em in the cut, get these punks off our balls
'Cause I'm doing illeg' up in these city streets
Packin' grams giving up tens four for thirty
So when you roll through the 'view look for Little Swoop
And I'm a have my fat all damn day for you
And for the hoes, you ain't gettin' no love
Me, plug a hoe and make myself look like a punk?
Hell nah, I ain't gone brown-nose in ninety-four
'Cause that ain't how the d-o game goes
Stressed out