Feat. Babee Loc, Tha Xtraz & E3
(Verse: Eazy-E)
I neva drink, bra** monkey, all about my money
Nickname Zy-3, that OG cush junkie
Eyes bloodshot red, I'm highly medicated
A n***a's still hurt cause my pops didn't make it
Seven years old, but I was ?
Raised white, disagree but you can go to hell
Living independently never start to fail me
Cops gave me a tip, now I'm chasing that money trail
I gotta get it cause you know that clock is tickin'
Make sure that my son got a pot to piss in
Meet manglin', hustlin', f**in'
I do things my way, you can't tell me nothin'
Straight off the motherf**in' streets, a target
Easy does it, yeah, you know we still stompin'
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k**s of the streets, well known as it seems
Sum it up, you can call us street kings, n***a
(Hook)
No threat no cuts on my essay
f** and murder the Compton, west side L.A.
West Coast just can't be touched
Stand in the air if you don't give a f**
Hustlin', pimpin', swaggin', thuggin'
One hit of this good sh** gonna make you choke
We run sh** for Doc da Bloc
West Coast n***as just can't be stopped
(Verse)
We dun get ol, darti bus man turp tiia
Wi don hav a lung, brai matta it aligal
Nepa won pan chea, tea fea
Bot em pan di run e godo
Di street kings dun come wit no pay
Dem do wit man de mah shae
Shaw dem maneske to det one fadeste
Wo deste to man di pullin o life ago
Sage, comin o long talk, possin o quotation
Inna di man squa detena ma scuart some
On my rit pin black on di reast eas e
Se wa a dim p**y seme wo dem street kings
(Hook)
No threat no cuts on my essay
f** and murder the Compton, west side L.A.
West Coast just can't be touched
Stand in the air if you don't give a f**
Hustlin', pimpin', swaggin', thuggin'
One hit of this good sh** gonna make you choke
We run sh** for Doc da Bloc
West Coast n***as just can't be stopped
(Verse: Kokane)
Thirteen years strong, now I'm on, so you gon' respect me
I'm so sick that I got AIDS scared to catch me
Cause I ain't nothin' less that good, b**h, I'm simply great
It's the legendary Kokane, or MCO
Extras, real loses, you don't move till I say so
Gimme three months, I'mma have Obama on the payroll
My ? from Mexico better give me them pessos
My yungins with the field bullsh**, callin' torpedoes
When I hustle, break up the head and I spit blood
All my money in the bank, watch how that sh** stack up
Crippin' be for pimpin', please willie n***a back up
I'mma Street king, even neon thing, I'mma neat truck
(Hook)
No threat no cuts on my essay
f** and murder the Compton, west side L.A.
West Coast just can't be touched
Stand in the air if you don't give a f**
Hustlin', pimpin', swaggin', thuggin'
One hit of this good sh** gonna make you choke
We run sh** for Doc da Bloc
West Coast n***as just can't be stopped