Lyrics:
I'm MJG the nigga with the versatile style
Check your calendar realize that I been here for awhile
When I was young I took the soul up out
and the neighbors
Boys in the hood
Born and raised in killa Cali, dreaming one day the city's ours
Young niggas hopping fences looking chilly [?]
[?]
Young
birdie, so fly, fly, fly
Now the young folks are selling off the old home place, cutting all the timber down
I sit and sing in the evening shade but
good care
His blood was young and his hands were black
But just from the dirt in the hole he sat
He started to think twice
Folks struck out, dwindled
top off, getting topped off
By yo bitch what you thought though?
When it comes to the gwap
20's, 50's, hundos
Need it pronto
Blunt smoke
Run hoe
Bust
intellectual
I ain't even gotta be technical
Getting amputated but it's still all good
Pearland Walmart still get jugged
Head band Wockhardt west H-town
Might
product
I live it cook it then bag it
Distribute it for rhode island
But the folks thats down south
And out west just like how its sounding
Its probably cuz
(West brackin)
If you can fan it then it aint enough (Huh)
I got a lil bread but it's never enough (Naw)
Break out them racks big bank take lil bad adding
Street nicca but I'm bout business no bow tie
Keep it in the street We can't put it in the folks eyes
West side baby we can lock it in on both sides
Woods
Memorize the signs to throw up when they gang wit em
Tend to show the same signs as sum insane niggas
Driving out to englewood live in west spring niggas
slugged, body drug through the mud, bring it on let's thug
Cause we comin', straight young gunnin', catching niggas running
y'all motherfuckers don't want
smokes
With the Mandems
Living life fat
That's lavish
For the folks
Who couldn't understand it
Now we out in hali
Land of the Golf no Camry
Hot goth
this ho
All you West Haven niggas get
Yo ass off the floor
We gon rumble in this ho
We gon rumble in this ho
All you duck ass bitches get
Yo ass off
From the West side of Chi by the Lords and the Souls
Politicians trying to hit a lick on the folks
Old heads smoking up crack and the
Popsicle pimps
ho
All you West Haven niggas get
Yo ass off the floor
We gon rumble in this ho
We gon rumble in this ho
All you duck ass bitches get
Yo ass off
Sit back with me, (praying that today will make things right)
While we reflect our dreams
Look, came from the land of the south the west side
the old heads
And I humble the young dudes
Damn
I got plenty of brawn too
Still puttin’ weight on my bars
Creatin’ these strong tunes
Doin’ internet classes
stop
nigga this Oakland, the city of dope
You know where that crack shit was invented
and smoked by these ghetto chemists years ago
on Plymouth street we
the park
I walk them streets every night
In search of fiends every night
Turnin' dreams to real life
Like fuck what's wrong or right
That young black boy was
Ayo I never banged, and through it all, never changed my name
They used to call me Young Blu, before the fame
Like my cousin Smurf, heard about
the tre', to the North, on back to West-8
It ain't a doubt I'm young but I'm a ball for mine
22's on the Lac sittin tall for mine
VS1's in my grill when
O.J, with blood on my gloves
I roll like young buck, homies want to hang with me
But I'm a killa on the grind livin dangerously
I'm thug pimpin, from
.jpg/225px-Kanye_West_at_the_2009_Tribeca_Film_Festival_(cropped).jpg "Kanye West")
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