As a youngster, I slanged cain, gangbanged Not a worry in the world, I'm all about money, man Getting my grind on was all my mind was on Making a grip, nigga, my money was on Double back pulling nothing but mail, fuck a briefcase Rolex watch with the diamond-studded face More Benzes than a dealership Slant-nose Porche with the whole damn kit Slanging more keys than the older players D.A. was on my dick but a real nigga didn't care They kicked in my door a million times And fine-ass bitches was all that they'd ever find Treated me like Vaseline, but quick as a fox Drop a key for 25 like they was hot Fools was jealous, I had too many tricks Fuck a playa hater, cause I was all about real niggas Niggas like John-John, the boy from the deuce side O.G. motherfuckers like Daddy G and Clyde They gave me the game to survive, oppenents gonna die Fuck him and his family, let the motherfuckers cry Nigga caught a bullet cause it wasn't my dope he was selling So I shot him behind me, death was trailing Always asking myself, who would be next, bitch? Gotta wear a vest cause I paranoid as shit I gotta survive, I gotta survive, I gotta survive Who wants to know I want to die? But the only way I'm going out is spraying Because the niggas from the deuce ain't playing >From my way up in the dope game, I met a lot of stops I got into some funk, one of my boys got shot Some fool was on my turf selling dope that wasn't mine I'm a gangsta, I mean problem with nines It never mattered that I knew the fool a long time Cross me once and death is all you'll find But this here will be my last hit To use a gun, it really didn't take shit We did it, we did it, we did it, we done it Mossberg street sweeper, I pumped it Unloaded all 15 rounds As I shot and I shot, niggas went down Bullets flying, niggas dying, but I ain't trippin I caught a fool with the back bitch slippin Pulled out the nine and I popped him 4 times Now let's see your black ass cry He looked at me with on his ass and said "Fuck you!" (gunshot) Nigga fuck you, too! The hit was on and it was time to go So I stood in my stide, jumped in the K5 Come on niggas, come on niggas, come on niggas I'm a business man, I can't stand bullshitters I hate to cause your family dismay But plain and simple nigga, we don't play I went 5150 when we lost my nigga Bruce 27 shots from a clip, getting loose For real motherfuckers, I was sharpening my shooting skills Hella mad nightly, shooting motherfuckers at will CTE, I got nothing to lose And a hell of a lot to gain, by killing you A thrill killa from the heart of real killers know In order to give I might have to take a blow It's kind of cold that you lost your brother But we still lost Bruce, motherfucker Tomorrow ain't promised a gangsta good luck Just a bullet motherfucker, cause death is a must As I bust, squeezing on my nine on your block Doing what I feel I gotta do to watch your ass drop And if your punk-ass bitch is in my way Let the stanky-pussy bitch meet my motherfucking AK Making moves for money, ain't no delaying It's '91, and the nigga named Pooh, he ain't playing More Pooh-man lyrics