For the funky beats I made I get for my grade
 I'm from the Dangerous Crew, I can't hang with you
 Cause I'm from Oakland, bitch, where the game is true
 You don't belive me? Well, come on slide through
 Because the city of dope will give you somethin' to ride to
 Put my tape in your deck and do some damages
 But the six by nines, they can't handle this
 I'm twenty-three so I'm far from a young buck
 This gin and juice is gettin' me pumped up
 Fake rappers get chumped up
 You wanna slang'em, watch your face gettin' lamped up
 Well, what's my name? You can call me Banks for short
 You wanna book me? You're about to see a gangsta show
 Cause I be tighter than tight, give me a brew and the mic
 And it will be on like chickenbone, you know that's right
 Some mothafuckas didn't belive that I can do this shit
 Kick some funky ass rhymes with some beats that hits
 Now I'm provin' them wrong but still suckas wanna clown
 But you jealous mothafuckas ain't bringin' me down
 I kept faith in myself, that's what I had to do
 To make it out here and stop fuckin' with you
 I'm 2 the head...
 Yeah! Now all you fake niggaz: get the fuck off my nuts!
 I got my shit rollin' so now I'm like a mack in town
 And when I'm ridin' through, the hoes be flaggin' me down
 I'm just a player kickin' funky shit with the Dangerous Clique
 And all these bitches, they out to get some famous dick
 But I ain't trippin', girl, you can bring that ass on
 Cause all this jockin' shit ain't guaranteed to last long
 But while it's happenin' you know I'm straight lovin' it
 You put your pussy in position and I'm pluggin' it
 But if you're lookin' for a nigga with a touch of affection
 You better take your ass to the love connection
 Cause, hoe, I ain't got no trust in you
 Cause if another rapper comes you'll be fuckin' him too
 And that's real, save the love for ?????
 Cause it's all about mackin' in 92
 One love, I ain't goin' that far
 I'm better known as a gigolo rap star
 I like to fuck groupie bitches cause it's fun too
 And I never get played cause I'm young true
 Hoes wanna be mine but that's a no no
 Get the fuck off my face, bitch, I'm 2 the head, hoe
 Now for verse three, you know it never quits
 Cause Ant Banks is in the house makin' hits
 And since I'm doin' this I gotta deal with jealous punks
 Mad cause my shit like pumps in the trunks
 And when I'm ridin' I gotta roll strapped in my 500 Benz
 Cause it's sittin' kinda phat, fake niggas smile on my face
 But they ain't bold ones
 Trippin' out cause they ain't ridin' on gold ones
 I know you're envies, that's hell of dumb for me
 Cause the shit I got, it didn't come for free
 Late nights at the studio bustin' my ass crack
 Tryin' to make hits, man, but where was your ass at?
 Probably at the corner drinkin' Old E, slangin' D
 See, you was sleepin', now everybody's know me
 I guess hard work pays and doin' nothin' is off
 Lazy niggas like you were once fuckin' us off
 Stop talkin' about me and get a J-O-B instead
 Bitch ass nigga, I'm 2 the head...
 Yeah and this goes out to all you shit talkin'
 bandwagon ridin' mothafuckas: get off