We still hustle 'til the sun come up, Cracc a 40 when the sun go down, It's a cold winter, Y'all niggaz better bundle up, And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion Yes the LOC gets down, you hot now, listen up Don't you know cops' whole purpose is to locc us down? And throw away the key, But without this drug shit your kids ain't got no way to eat, We still try to keep Mom...smilin'... Cuz when the teeth stop showin' and the stomach start growlin' Then the heat start flowin' If you from the hood I know you feel me, If a sneak start leanin' and the heat stop workin' Then my heat start workin' I'm-a rob me a person, Catch a nigga sleepin' while he out in the open...and I'm-a get him, We gotta raise our kids while we livin' Make a million off-a record bail my niggaz outta prison, Fucc a Bentley or a Lexus just my boys in the squadder Nigga talk reccless then I hit 'em with the Smif 'n... But I'm never snitchin' I'm a rider, If my kids hungry snatch the dishes out ya kitchen I'll be wylin' til they pick me outta line-up... We keep the nines tucced, chopped dimes up, rap about it Wyle out, fucc niggaz up, laugh about it, I'm not tryin' to visit the morgue but Face Loc move out 'til I sit with the Lord, 'Til I...get my shit together, clean up my sins Face Loc got it in like 10 in the mornin'. And I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin' mang... Still deliver the order mang! And I ain't talkin' bout chicken and gravy mang! I'm talkin' bout briccs of ye-yo, halves and quarters 4 and a halves of hash you do the math Swing past us scoop up your daughter. She wanna roll wit' a thug that rap, you do the math He won't blast 'til my stacks in order mang!
JAMES pATTERSON & DEAN KOONTZ