[Ant Banks]
 Yeah, to the break of dawn, you know? Let's do this

 Chorus:
 Niggas in Oakland all day long
 Be pimping these hoes from dusk til dawn
 Making cash real fast and you know it's on
 Hanging on the streets of Oakland

 All we do is smoke that weed
 And drink brew on the ave til we get keyed
 And a little bit of head is all we need
 Hanging on the streets of Oakland

 [Ant Banks]
 Welcome to the danger zone, where the niggas don't play that
 Every man for self, the rule is to stay strapped
 Cause rat packers try to jack that ass
 From the jealousy that's built in the streets when you stack cash
 And they'll blast, hoping they can get get it
 Punk, so if you got it, you best to get with it
 Or quit it, cause niggas be flipping over dope and
 Your friends might get you if you're slipping in Oakland
 Yeah, so don't play no punk-ass nigga close
 Cause they'll mash on your cash and get ghost
 And don't say Ant Banks didn't warn ya
 About the loced-ass gangstas killing in California
 That's where I'm from, nigga, rolling in my G-ride
 Hey, you gonna see me slide when I'm on the Eastside
 Making all my fucking gitnotes
 Making sure my gat straight smitnokes, smobbing with my fitnokes
 That's all we doing is the town is seeing bitches clowning
 Kicking back getting high lounging
 It really doesn't matter what you do, yo chilling with your crew
 You're sipping on a brew, you're pimping bitches too
 And the shit don't bother me if that's how it's gotta be
 Then macking these hoes should be equality
 See, the game goes deep when you're rolling
 Hanging on the streets of Oakland

 Chorus

 Nighttime falls and everybody's perking
 No punks around so funks occurring
 But the sideshow's back and everybody's flossing
 In they ride trying to side and all the freaks are tossing
 And brother with bump, trunk of funk is knocking
 Candy paint on they ride keeps the bitches jocking
 Knowing you's a balling-ass nigga everybody hates
 Rolling in the town with a pound straight dropping weight
 Blowing up like dynamite
 Selling weed, yey, angel dust, hop, and China white
 Fuck it, you're making duckets, never riding buckets
 Playing punk bitches like puppets
 Yo, but there's a lot of fake counterfeit macks
 Playa hating on they homies trying to dry cat
 To look good for the hoes, man these niggas ain't joking
 Boy, you get that ass smoked in Oakland

 Chorus

 [Boots - spoken]
 Aw yeah, The Coup is up in here, and we be talking about the
 real. Motherfuckas know that we know, that they know, that we
 know the deal. Now the originality of our principality is that
 we don't play the pimp. But the reality of our locality, and
 you'll learn this gradually, is that motherfuckas do this shit
 to pay their rent. But here's a hint: how we gonna get it straight
 when we bent? Shit, see I ain't never had shit but my stripes
 and my game and my life, and all them's just hand downs from my
 grandaddy. Yeah, I'm living large kidding with Ant Banks, but I'm
 still hustling food stamps for my candy apple red Caddy. Alright