61 to the 9 the city of mine

Got motherfuckers running like at Santana High

So don't try using my name for your fame

Mad cuz a youngster got a lock on the game

What a shame you ain't the gangster that you claim to be

If you're really balling why the fuck you wanna hate on me

Low Pro what? Homey I'm a gangster

Amici Park Krazy motherfucker, quick to bank you

And shank you with the ice pick

Cuz this fat motherfucker claims to have a whole album off my old shit

It's cold shit, but homey fuck it

I'ma let this poor fat fuck make a ducket

So don't get it twisted thinking that he owns something

Shadow Presents The Mayhem Clique cost me nothing

All I wanted was a little bit of weed money

That flip a key money, then you wanna talk funny



[Chorus x2]

From the youngest to the oldest

Hottest to the coldest

From the rugged to the boldest

I'm the sickest and you know this

I make a motherfucker fold when I throw this shit at you



You say that you're this, you say you got that

Then homey cock your strap and show me where your heart at

Tricky spark that blunt and let these motherfuckers know

We can have a gun fight or we could go toe to toe

No furies pumped in this young Southsider

San Diego rider, shit's getting tighter

Fool step aside, it's between me and him

Anybody wanna trip then it's us against them

That's the way men handle it, can you hang

I put in work with real soldiers, faggot you like to phone bang

You know the name, Mr. Shadow all up in this

Been nosey trick you need to mind your own business

I got your name at the top of the list

For being a bitch and running your lips like it ain't shit

You get hit in the ribs with the club

Fool you ain't a G, in the streets you get no love



[Chorus x2]



Already let the world know about the acting, yapping

Now I gotta talk about your rapping

You say that you're Worldwide, Coast to Coast

Fool I'm still the same and requested the most

You serve one day and post bail, scared of a cell

Cuz you know that they'll get you for the stories you tell

How you're riding in them low-lows, hanging out with cholos

Banging puffing dodo when really you're rolling solo

Talk a lot of shit but you never do nothing

Bitch you gotta have a loaded clip to start dumping

Got your heart pumping, skipping a beat

You diabetic motherfucker you ain't fucking with me

I stay heated, weeded, not guilty's what I pleaded

You call the comp and album cuz my name is what you needed

So be it, but fool you need to quit

Stop talking out your neck on the phone woofing shit



[Chorus x2]