[MC Eiht] Wake your punk ass up The MC Eiht's back in the muthafucking house Kicking the straight gansta shit for teh 9-1 You know what I'm saying, yea
Growing up in the hood, yea boy, 1984 Was the year my peers didn't know what was in store A little hard head kid came abade Time to pay my dues, learn the tricks of the trade And at home, it's the same ass story Mom's treat me like she don't even know me But my younger brother's got much clout I can't take this shit so I bones the hell out And roll wit the pack of wicked muthafuckas No shorts are taken, we're down black brothers A little nigga wit no problems at all Fucked up and killed my first 8-ball Quick up the stairs so little sucker stop looking Stagger to the house so I can collect my whooping But watch out cause a little nigga's up to no good Growin' up in the hood
(Chorus) ("Life ain't nuttin but bitches and money") ("Cause in the city you live and let die") ("Nutting but bitches and money")
[MC Chill] I got hard times and realize, ?(skate)? sometimes I wonder But it just seems that the hood could took me under Police sweat my tip and keep harrassing Trying to lock me up cause I keep on blasting Community trying to shut me out But the money keeps flowing and I got much clout Wit the cluckers, the brother back street punk suckers Try to break me out fool, you be a short muthafucka Always strapping, eager to peel a cap I set up a trap, put your foot to a nap Cause I grew up fast on the wrong side of the law So watch me take 2 to your jaw Don't enter my hood homeboy Not a robocop, a robogansta, ready to destroy I take chances cause life to me ain't no good Growin' up in the hood
(Chorus) ("Life ain't nuttin but bitches and money") ("Where I'm at if you're soft, you're lost") ("Nuttin but bitches and money")
[MC Eiht] 1987, I'm back on the scene, out of jail, I'm legit And I'm fucking up shit I'm ready to peel a sucker's cap And I heard that my hood was making snaps As I precede to make my riches Just like the neighborhood kingpin, pimp, and all these bitches Task force trying to roll deep But I'm playing these punk fools cheap Niggas rolled by and try to blast, it didn't work I seen the bullets flying and fool, I hit the dirt Bullets fly through the window Hits my brother, down goes my mother As I'm rolling, I'm hitting my switches Looking for the punk ass, sons of bitches I found them, before I kill 'em, I said you fucked up good Got ta handle that, growin' up in the hood
(Chorus)
Yea-a-a-a
[MC Chill] A brother's on the run, I've got a hand in my stash box Wanted cause I'm serving them the potent fat rocks And my face is like a household name Everybody warns their kids about the dope game But I'm still makin my profit And the one time just can't stop it So I keep hiding my face No time to waste, they got me on the chase Now the neighborhood's on my line Cause some punk ass fool had drop the dime 5-0 at my doo' at 8 o'clock Rush to the toilet so I could flush the rock Out the backdoor, freeze, I heard a shout Am I sho', yo I guess I got no clout But it's murder one, I'm the victim, damn, that ain't good Growin' up in the hoodTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
