(feat. Big Tri, Young Tone)



[Kurupt]

Yeah, nigga, nigga

No disrespect to you East coast

The West coast we got heat too

We gon' keep it real G'd up

(Y.A., Tri, Lil' Kurupt)



[Verse One]

Okay, if I don't make it rappin it's back to jackin

Back to the click-clackin and the khaki jackets

I'm a rider, dat's why I got that tat

And a provider, jazz got a lot I ain't had

I'm a survivor, screwdriver, cracked steering column

Every event, book bag, gat at the bottom

I'm convinced, that my common sense intensify

Now I'm convinced it's, hoppin over fences



[Chorus: patois speaker - best guess]

Six in de mornin you know they kyan't find no mo-ney, mo-ney

[?] get money haffi feed my whole fami-ly, fami-ly

It was because I load 'n buck gyal you know she a scared for me, for me

Because the tussle an' the hustle an' it rough and [?] to be me, be me



[Kurupt]

Pistol's my specialty, and uh

I'm a gangster, my specialy, and uh

Fire I let it fly and toss, and uh

I'm a boss molotovs get tossed, and uh

Hey girl, what the fuck's the deal?  And uh

You want the fake girl, or you want the real?  And uh

Sixty-four Chevy's all on D's, and uh

Overdosin to West coast MC's, and uh

And you be thinkin you got me but you ain't got a thang

Niggaz claimin they bangin but they don't really bang

Since I [?] opposition position switch the game

Pistols whistle while missiles'll chip a niggaz frame



[Chorus]



[Verse Three]

I'm a pistol popper, 88 candy-painted Cadillac dropper

Tanqueray and vodka

One-nine or thirty-eight, tec and a chopper

Infrared hollow pointed tucked in my boxers

I'ma keep it gangster y'all, fuck what the rest say

Keep a lot of dope and coke, like an ese

So please pay attention, this street shit is serious

My niggaz leave you bleedin like bitches on they periods

Contact your label, bring your best artists-es

Nigga we started this, verbally retarded shit

Entourage rider, we eatin Budweiser

Throw away thirty-eight, brand new fo'-fiver



[Chorus]



[Kurupt]

(The hustlin is hard) Break 'em down nigga

(It get rougher in my yard) Gotti, nigga what

(We say the hustlin is hard) Please let's roll these suckers

(It get rough and get it tough in my yard)



[patois speaker ad lib to end]