 
          
            
            
 
          
           
            
 
        Verse 1:  
Welcome to the ghetto  and this is the place  young niggas be throwin  
they rocks up in my face  
My homey G be yellin yo this like a holdup  Im pullin my gat to make  
a mutha fucka fold up  
In my Jag on my phone talkin business  Mac 10 to my dome Yo what is this  
Im tellin him drop it Yo lets box and we can go a round  he dropped  
his gat I picked it up and blew his ass down  
I know its scandalous but a simple fuckin dirty fact, Id rather hear  
my Uzi rat-a-ta-ta-tat-tat  
Its for protection not to kill or break a niggas bones, back to the  
story, heres the story B the story on  
His guts were scattered he was splattered up against the wall, my homey  
G was on my phone buggin off my call  
I tried to smash but Im lookin at some high beams into the eyes of  
some mutha fuckin dope fiend  
He seen me shoot him so I shot him blew his ass off , I shot my Uzi up  
in the air and then I smashed off  
Im rollin thicker than a milkshake, I like to eat crab but I prefer  
steak  
I aint no joke mutha fucka so dont play yourself, I flip you over fry  
your ass like a patty melt  
And if you ever disrespect me Ima bank ya, so say what up to the  
mutha fuckin east bay gangsta  
meneme forgot to use my nine cuz 5-0 bombed the AK, the 187 posse  
robbed the bank in a way. Legal or illegal its the way of the bay. The  
government keep the profit of cocaine in a way. Me shootin up me  
shootin up if he dont give me my pay The niggas up on the block send  
for me every day. A thousand everyday will keep the 5-0 away. Just  
call me east bay G-A-N-G-S-T-A  
Verse 2:  
Looked in my mirror cose range right behind me, tinted windows up in  
the Benz 190  
I aint no dummy knew right off hes tryin to kill me, if I dont smash  
full of buckshot he will fill me  
Hangin out the car shots scatter windows shatter trouble, Ill shoot  
him up bathed in his blood like Mr Bubble  
187 did I do it with an AK, another day a nigga dead up in the  
alleyway  
Why did I do it, its my pistol and I packed it, I think they need to  
lock my ass up in a straightjacket  
So all you suckas listen close to this warnin, while I get into your  
ass like Charmin  
Funky shit that so dope so open your mouth up, you ever shuck me Ima  
blow your fuckin house up  
And if youever disrespect me Ima bank ya, so say what up to the mutha  
fuckin eastbay gangsta  
Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta, Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta kickin the funky  
Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gi gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta(???) G-Nut  
because hes down with the Fac, lynch mutha fuckas when were coolin  
the block. The X the L the A the R-G-E, the murder fac 187 posse. The  
E-A-Ski is with 187, the CMT is with 187  
Verse 3:  
Now as Im maxin in this mutha fuckin jail cell, with nuthin but dried  
up funk to smell  
I thinkin about the times that I ganked fools and why Im coolin in  
these fucked up county blues  
I ve murder mutha fuckas singular and in a pair, and in the morning  
Ill be getting the electric chair  
But do I care, Yo I could give a fuck less, the CIA, FBI got it in the  
chest  
Tappin my phone calls, wires hidden in my walls, I had the money flowin  
smooth like Niagara Falls  
The glory got so Im considered a murderous criminal, because my bullet  
ate his ass like a cannibal  
Before I chopped him with AK I made him say his grace, and then I  
emptied the clip off up in his fuckin face  
His partner callin for backup as I was breakin out, nigga refused to  
die, thats what I heard him shout  
I hit the corner with quickness because I aint the one, to feel the  
fuckin blast of a shotgun  
And when they fry my ass, Im goin straight Hell, thats why Im kickin  
you tales of a jail cell  
And if you ever disrespect me Ima bank ya, so say what up to the mutha  
fuckin eastbay gangsta  
Dja Mon, me gonna kick the funky gangsta shit mon, me kickin the funky  
gangsta. The gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta,  
Gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da gangsta  
Dja mon, mida me got E-A-Ski in the house mon, Me got me DJ Xtra Large  
mon, We got CMT in the mutha fuckin house, Dja Mon we got (????) Check  
it out!  
Verse 4:  
Me pullin out me glock mon to settle the ghetto job me kickin the funky  
reggae kickin the funky rasta  
Many people that I be meeting be calling me killa gangsta then shoot up  
your bitch and kick back and smoke a blunt in the car  
Me fuckin with dank me fuckin with dank Its S-P-I-C-E 1 me buckin em  
down me buckin em down shootin lead in his lung  
Me kickin the funky gangsta shit to get the bitch sprung, the 187  
Faculty bitch so fuck the  
(??
 
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