Dre Jackin For Beats

Lyrics

[Intro] (This is a DJ Skee exclusive) Yeah, Neighborhood, tiny locs do the most Nip' Hussle in this motherfucker Slauson Boy, you niggas already know what it is Huh? Hood shit Give y'all a lil' throwback, like this Look, look [Verse] With so much drama in the R.S.C Most of these niggas in L.A. ain't got the heart to beef, so don't Come around my around my way Young niggas in the back shootin' dice or on the roof with 'K's Now as I, step out my closet, put my keys in my car Dippin' down the 'Shaw, made a left on Hyde Park Seen some off-brand niggas lookin' shady Threw my hood, they start laughin' tryna play me, pssh 6-0 degrees got me rollin' up my sleeves Reachin' for my Ruger that's behind my AC, fa' sheez I pull up on 'em slow, and hell nah, I ain't hesitate to squeeze 'Cause I'm a tiny loc line presser You might mess up, make the wrong turn off Slauson and learn a life lesson MACs with extended magazine and suppressors Strapped 'cause the police ain't on the streets to protect us Trapped in a sting, it's all a scheme to collect us Lock us up in cages that they know ain't gon' correct us Y'all done F'd up, you from the West, huh? You got it on your mind, you should get it off you chest, cuh Lotta speculation who gon' be the next up Block money, tell these rappers get they checks up Before you hit the West, charger sock kicks up So when you get took for your change you could text us Between Draws and the homie in the red Chucks It's safe to say we got this whole shit sewed up We got this whole shit sewed up I'm just looking for some more kush to roll up Always smoking that la-la-la To keep my brain maintainin' through drama, I'm Not the one, we jackin' for beats on back streets With aluminum bats, toe tags, and PD That's any jurisdiction, in or out the district 7-7 division of crime scene forensic My .9 blur the vision of material witness 20/20 to blind, now she need prescriptions, look Cut the lights out and twist up a sack 'Cause the feds tappin' my hood, you get all that? From the birds to the squad to the cameras in the back Of the routes by field where I handle the pack See, a nigga like me just had to attack In junior high, I ain't had no sack lunch, in fact I used to flip a quarter, get like me for change Now I flip quarter kilos of 'caine and cop again (It's like—)