It's the summertime, hop into the drop vent, 22 Tech, hoppin' and ready to hop up in the
nigga's shit, and catch you slippin' at the stop sign, no need to shine your diesel, turn
up the beat, cause I just made this shit mine, so get your shit, nigga, vacay, cause ain't
nothin' like swimmin' in the Sacramento River, hopin' on to some extra weight, nigga, you
took too long, and now the rope is wraparound, nigga, 22 Tech is to the dome, ain't got to
do this like impatient, you'll be a victim of the memorial line, when he open the gates,
I'll push you in, we had to bust him cause he fucked a fuckin' girl off, he put the Glock
up in his mouth and led him to a bloody car, don't even tip him, cause I'mma tell you about
the model number, Glock 2344, where Teflon bullets fuck his whole summer, he should've
known, when he spilled his guts, we was on clown, now his mama's in the chair, time's
from the way, down, the next nigga, I'mma tell you about it, he's even weaker, comin'
through my hood, can't be paint, on them gold sneakers, he played us close, so we had
to get his bitch ass, burnin' rubber from the punch, he matched his foot up from the
gap, I was strapped, so I hopped in my fuckin' low, fuck this bitch ass nigga, I just want
to date him, Rod spoke, he got away, but nigga, that ain't nothin', I can't get bitch ass
n***a at a sideshow or somethin', this man a toy, you play me close, when you're with
me, talk to the feds, stab me in the back, and now I gots to shoot you in the head, I'm
givin' it up and pullin' the trigger, nigga, fuck you, grab the calico 32, you got to go,
okay, they caught you, for 25 years, you won't be walkin', and them niggas that you call your
so -called homies, is down there talkin', they based on the fact we got hooked up with some
landowners, some punk ass nigga done went to the polls and dropped a dime on us, and
everybody's in the killin', state of mind, drillin', movin', learnin', 17 shots before
they drop nine, we hit they streets, hearts beatin' like a motherfucker, ready to buck
these niggas down, they shouldn't have fucked us up, the butt cocktails, man, ready to roast
these niggas like a toaster, not only a murder, but a jack for some who broke rotas, cuz in
these streets, you gotta do to survive, he had no choice but to be cremated, because
we burnt his bitch ass alive, you played me close when you went and talked to the feds,
stabbed me in the back, and now I gots to shoot you in the head, I'm givin' it up and
pullin' the trigger, nigga, fuck you, grab the calico 32, you got to go, I thought you
knew, another nigga tried to play me close, I trap up on him with the 70 shots, I buck
his body and cut his throat, that wasn't his though, he tried to play me like a hoe, I
grabbed my mac with the 30 shots and headed for the funeral, motherfucker, you tried to
f*ck me, I'll fuck you back, two dicks don't cut, so I guess I'ma fuck you with the 30
shot mac, got another hunk of red cheese, we 50 month like grim coffee, I should've
put this bitch ass nigga not to fuck with me, kick the casket, no love for his bitch
ass, I aim my mac at a crowd and blast you to cash, and then I straight dab, you played
me close when you went and talked to the feds, stabbed me in the back, and now I gots to
shoot you in the head, I'm givin' it up and pullin' the trigger, nigga, fuck you, grab
the calico 32, you got to go, I thought you knew, I thought you knew, motherfucker, this
is the gangsta dream, this motherfucker for the 1994 shot, funk central records and funk
lab studios, much dab to my nigga Marvin Scott, you know what I'm sayin', much dab to my nigga
pig, sleepy days, motherfuckin' scene, you know what I'm sayin', funk central and this
