Bank On It

Lyrics

[Intro: Mausberg] California, uh Sheppard Lane, John Doe Booya Blow ya hammer mister Quik baby Downtown baby, downtown baby Uh, we gets down baby Uh, downtown baby, West coast for life We gets down baby [Verse 1: Mausberg] Mister, mister Mausberg, Playa Hamm God damn we the bomb We the first and the last dons Representas, pastime sinners on the rise Young, black, money making riders who died of affiliation Fool, I'm from Compton, real G's don't turn soft Fool, we be stompin' Rolls with my riders who be burgundy'd up, and blued up When it's time for the rumble my dogs, we trued up I don't lounge with the squad we gon' smash yo' ass West side 'til I die, dog give us the cash California to the N-Y, and the dirty South Me and West the business, that's what I'm all about Throw yo' hands in the sky if you can feel this Good lookin' out Quik, Compton got another hit Mausberg the superb's on his way to the top Sheppard Lane, John Doe, fool it don't stop [Chorus: Playa Hamm] Day and night Whether wrong or right We gon' do it and it's gon' be tight And you can bank on it A Q-P of the dougie weed Got the money straight comin' to me So we can bank on it The Hennessy melts the I-C-E The white stars in the car for me So we can drank on it Straggleez wanna ride the D From the desert to the seven seas Bank on it [2nd II None] Gangsta D be mackin' hoes as I bounce through the do' Cause pimpin's in my bones, fo sho', ya didn't know? I slap a hood rat back, back with realness Caught them hoes plottin' on my game, tryna kill this Booya, we the realest Ain't no stoppin', no tellin', no need to explain But in seven years I've been game Wonderin' tricks and niggas (how you sound the same?) Mind yo' thang, I know it's hard to maintain Mackadocious, like a mother, game like no other We put it down with real, while goin' in with them rubbers Straggleez 'ill burn ya, the streets we learn ya Talkin' 'bout my scrillies, that don't even concern ya At the mo-mo, had a trick slangin' cock in the room next do' Trickin' with the po-po, baby get my money All day, errday, no play, my way, KK Still shinin' from the hood, dimwitted When you turn the volume up louder you gon' feel it If you want it, we got it It's been on and it's poppin' never stoppin' (KK, where you been?) I'm out workin' tryna clock it All these lil tricks dressed up (what?) And niggas scared to get they clothes messed up Keep knockin', while ya chins keep droppin' Think of 2nd II None, like a hot goose hop [Bridge: Playa Hamm] We got the bomb at the studio spot And it's slangin' hella better than rocks And you can bank on it Non-believers got their heaters hot Baby girl won't you trick that cock So we can bank on it The Hennessy melts the I-C-E But put the Sheppards in a flask for me So we can drank on it Mausberg nigga, Hamm, K, and D's straight playas Wit' a capital G and you can bank on it [Verse 3: Playa Hamm] Yeah, we grind to steal, I appeal to the masses Break 'em off proper, make 'em shake they asses Class is in session and me and Mausberg do it Hit 'em up wit' the spit that'll put the glass on fluid True to it, that's why I keep on comin' stuntin' Got 'em runnin' if they bite they bone gummin' Burn rubber, kick rocks, or push pedals cause Cause every playa be thinkin' carry heavy metal That'll blow they backs out like homie be puttin' it Peep game, recognize Playa Hamm got his foot in it Knee deep, when I creep So world take notice, understand as I flow this I bust to make 'em blow this (like the bomb) It always be, act like ya see me up in this, it's been this It ain't easy being cheesy Show us the boss'n then sun up to sun rise, we winnin' Wit' eyez on the prize, it's the beginnin' So much money on my mind, I count G's to sleep You betta be about that lucci baby When you beepin' the P 2nd II None and I gets paid to keep it delicious Gets paid, grantin' groupies' wishes, yeah I come with Quik and they want it down they throats East, West, North, South, so put this in quotes I don't brag, I don't boast, I just wanna pay my bills When it comes to the realism, I got skills [Verse 4: Mausberg] Open up yo' eyes to this non-fic Y'all suckas didn't hear it Mausberg it the realest Ninety-nine is my year To let the whole damn world know why I'z be fly for life, eyes red cause I'm high Give me the M-ic And let me go booya! For them critics who be hatin' on my gangsta style Possessed by the funk with the P Love for the G, but originally- [Outro] Put the bank on it