[STACIE LUVLY ONE]

I stumbled on this photograph

It kinda made me laugh

It took me way back

Backdown Denver Lane...

(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)

(Me and my homies are goin')

Backdown Denver Lane...

(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)

(Me and my homies are goin')

Backdown Denver Lane...

(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)

(Me and my homies are goin')

Backdown Denver Lane...

It took me way back



[STUDIO GANGSTA]

I'm chillin' in my hood with the homies gettin' bent

This is West/Side Denver, 111 percent

Crackin' those Four-O's, gonna kill a 9-0

We creeped in a Duster and busted on the hustlers

They couldn't make ?a make-up his passengers?

Imagine (?we them gangstas? ?? some empty cartridges)

75 round hollow points, you Crabs get the point

Another Ricket got smoked like the joint

Reload the jammies to milk some "Rice Crispies"

But the Stones is deep, we pull some skirts on the "Sissies"

Our driver got scared so we had to remove her

(Fuck that bitch) we went bustin' on the "Boovers"

One was dressed in Gucci but claimin' "Hoochie Coochie"

He could never be a soldier like Tone Allen Fugee

Or my big brother King Babalu from Piru

If we kill one Ricket, then we gots to kill two

We out fightin' and slicin' but not like Tyson

Dressed in red, sellin' dope, livin' hard (sacrificin')

Our lives is on the calendar, it's sure to come

But my head is hard, I say: "Fuck "Snot Guns"!"

Then wipe my nose, hey, something's itchin' me

I scratched me knee, killed a B.G. flee

Got hungry, stuck in the kitchen

Killed a big plate of "Eggs, Toast and Grits"

Then melt some cheese on my bread and I kill the "Cheese Toast"

Kill a Front Street, Bacc Street and kill a "Meatloaf"

Kill a "Shoe-Lace" (buck-buck) by time I'm tight

Kill a "Fake Street", die tryin' to fight

The Denver Lane Gang (buck-buck), so you bet not chuckle

Fuck ???, we beat Crabs with brass knuckles

Cause one slipped in the hood and tried to cross out Denver

We beat his ass to a pulp, a day he'll always remember

But he can't, B-Blood's is layin' dead

In the middle of the street, red flag on his head

Compliments from the Denvers, and we don't care

Kill a "Nappy Head", yeah, tell 'em come to here

Kill the "Compton Crabs", "Long Bitch" and "Pooh Butts"

Kill the P.J. Watts and "Waffles", we swallow 'em up

Kill the ??? sprayin' with the Uzis

Kill a "Four Tramp Monkey Street" plus the "Five-Dookies"

A bitch is the reason I made this rhyme

Miss Drag, also known as Miss Frankenstein

A killer rollin' one hundred

While I'm holdin' one hundred

Dollar bills in my pocket

And stoppin' feedin' my stomach

To break the hundred, killed you like that

And that ain't shit, my pocket is still on fat

My homie lives in the Front, Monte ??? got my side

Trey K's in the back, and he's strapped in his black ride

Waitin' on nuthin', about to go on a mission

All gats are loaded, keys in the ignition

Let's go! Finger points are framin'

Saw a Crab on the way, Monte was pointin' and aimin'

We enter their hood, I grinned and patted my .9

Last time they was scared and spared by One-Time

Trey's my dog, and saw the nigga in flew

Lyn gave me the scoop, so I jumped out the Coupe

Cocked the shell in the chamber, felt just like a stranger

Right behind this Crab who don't know he's in danger

I speeded my step, quiet as kept

And the way I was dressed you'd probably think I was a prep

I said: "What's up Blood?" He said: "You don't bang"

You's a motherfuckin' liar, this is West/Side Lane Gang

Bang bang bang, that's what I did

Jet back to the hood, 109th and Fig'

Then went to Gills to buy some drink drink

It's a big hoo-ridin', hmm, let me think

I grab the gin and 'secco, oh yes, we must

And took one freak to the house, you know what? (She freaked us)

And turned on the news around 11 o'clock

It's just another "Rice Crispies" snapped, crackled and popped



Backdown Denver Lane...

(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)

(Me and my homies are doin')

It took me way back

Lane, Lane, Lane, Lane...