Ya they can talk with the windows down
Ya look around, now they a crowd
Ya now the mans gonna talk out loud
Ya now the town gonna hear the sounds
The guns firing and the gangsta roar
The mafia just robbed that small store
Now the police are dying for more
Their legs sore and falling to the floor
Gangsta crime and the bad gangsta rhyme
Now the gangstas running from the time
Can't keep up with the long growing list
Gang fights are hurting their brittle fists
Strolling dark alleys and making way
The money and cash makes them all stay
Mafia talk (etc.)
Guns in the hand, stash in the back
Runs on the land, cash in the bag
Running everyday, running late
I'm gonna stay, no foolish play
Can't stop me from making the big cash
Can't stop me from filling up the trash
I'll get up to there one of these days
When I get a lot of those cloud plays
Will I ever reach to rich and fame?
Or is music all just a **** game?
Help me reach up to there will you please?
Or leaving me falling on my knees?
They all can do it well so can I
Can't say for sure but can at least try