[Verse 1]

It's 1996 and I'm dippin with my G

I'm claimin Cartel till I die, sippin hennessey

Got the rolex on my neck and my wrist

Dis a hoe that's all I know as the 100 spoke twist

G's rollin tighter than a G-string hoes wanna playa hate

The conversation's stupid 'cause forever I'ma celebrate

And aim with my homies finger clutched on a Tec.9

Yo bitch, you walk a thin line

Buggin 'cause I'm rockin videos in they eyes, buggin me

Packin up your shit and leavin me while I'm in Italy

So let the dog hit you where the dog shoulda porched on

In other words get the fuck on

Tryna stack a mill ticket

But you always get mad when my G's kick it

But on the road it's us against the world

For my G I would take a slug

'Cause it's gangsta luv



[Chorus]

It's that gangsta love from the S.C.C.

Talkin 'bout these bitches and rollin with my G's

It's that gangsta love from the S.C.C

Can't get no peace because these hoes keep sweatin me



[Verse 2]

I'ma be a G from the nighttime to the break of dawnin

'N the morning I clip the .9 mill when I'm yawnin

Performin days'n days but you be trippin on my status

Buggin me with family matters

I'm a gangster when I mention that's the way I kick it

Now that you addicted you tryna make me switch it

I picture me and you holdin, blue 64

Baby locs in the back seat hittin dips hoe

(Bonnie & Clyde) no matter what the fuck is happenin

You holdin my back that's even if it call for cappin

And scrappin baby had love for G's

Another page from the eastside trilogy

But you be buggin, couldn't deal with a gangsta's lovin

It's nuthin that'll keep your lifestyle plush'n

Rushin from hood to hood 'cause you think I'm caught slip'n

But it's gangsta luv still dipp'n



[Chorus]



[Verse 3]

Blowin up my pager and you know you had the chance

But I never call you back I hope that ass understands

You see me dippin in a beamer 5-25

High sippin on a Semor

Right, now you wanna ride with a nigga 

'cause a nigga's livin large, hoe

Posted in the Central, I drop that ass like some cargo

Rhimeson on a path to luxuries so stop beepin me

Hoe, your ass is history

As my game got deep like the Abyss

I had to make you drop the miss, prod

And now you miss, tha

Rollin Havikk Rhimeson and the Prode'je

Callin all the hoes that begin with the letter "B"

Saw you couldn't deal with this, you say I'm caught up in the game

My head had blown up from the fame, I'm the same

O.G. E-A-S-T rider

With this gangsta luv I provide ya



[Chorus]