Hey yo Spice
What's goin on man
I see five-o over there
Is that five-o
Same muthaf**kas that beat my partner down last week
But I ain't trippin I got this 187 Proof by my side
It's finna be on
Is that right
Yeah
But where you stayin at man what's goin on
Same muthaf**kin neighborhood man
Just tryin to get this shit off the ground
This rap thing you know
Yeah I heard that shit man
Let them niggas know what time it is
Yeah
Check it
I like to walk around my hood smokin dank a lot
I see some brothers in the trees is they slingin rocks
Runnin through a broken-down wooden fence
A n***a didn't have brains cause he smoked sinse
Or sess or whatever you wanna call it
He got the task on his ass better haul it
Fiends suckin up the crack in the backyard
Dropped a pebble on the ground now he's lookin hard
Will he keep searchin or will he cease and just forget the hit
Or pull a jack move and let the nine click
I'm in the cut late night about 12 o'clock
I see some brothers bustin caps in a parking lot
There go my homies rollin up in a black 'Vette
Nothin but the money for the paycheck
"Another day another dead up in the alleyway"
That's what the boys in the Bay up in Cali say
The California life task in the palm trees
Brothers be clockin g's slingin ki's
Up in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
In my
In my
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Funk - is a part of my life
It's the sound of the gangster Spice
Warning - check out the blast of a shotgun
Nine muthaf**kin millimeter have one
Or two or three or four
Cause every brother in my hood is hardcore
Boom-boom to the death of a cop
Pop-pop-pop - see another one drop
Crazy-ass n***a off the peppermint schnapps
And now you wonder why young niggas sling hop
Never woulda thought I'd be a dealer of dope
Niggas slingin and bangin and breakin necks and throats
The spot it was poppin but yet the fuzz kept ridin my jock
Tick-tock I watch the clock they flock
See a undercover cop raise off the block
That's how it is in the game of slingin rocks
Cause on the TV they make it look real good
But Mr Rogers ain't got shit on my niggas up in the neighborhood
In my neighborhood
In my
In my
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Welcome to the ghetto although I call it my neighborhood
Some people get out but some people stay for good
I see a dopefiend yellin he's a O G
He scratched his head and started starin like he knows me
I say "What up old man I seen your face before"
It was my homie's pops shirt dirty pants tore
He had a 40 in his hand left a little swallow
He said "Young-ass nigga " and then he threw the bottle
I ducked down and I had to duck real fast
Stepped two feet back and then I banked his ass
I started kickin and stompin my nigga's brains out
I heard a b***h yell "freeze " and runnin out the house
It was his wife and the b***h started bustin at me
I can't believe this shit this b***h is trigger-happy
Pull out my nine bust the b***h in the left titty
That's how it is in a burned-out dopefiend city
And now you're sayin I'm the n***a up to no good
If gives a f**k if you're Bush you get jacked up in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
In my
In my
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
