(Gyeah, now that's some of that real gangsta sh**
Comin' from an original n***a from the Compton streets
MC Eiht's in the motha f**in house, Gyeah
And right about now, Half Ounce in the motha f**in house
MC Eiht, DJ Slip my n***as on the run, Little Hawking Bird
Gyeah)
One more n***a on the run
I just can't handle this, born in the land of the scandalous
Thirteen years of age at the time
Moms ain't kickin' in, I gots to get mine
I loads up my strap, map out my plan
Choose my victim, then mother f**in' stick him
One more point that got scored for the hood
Up to no damn good, understood
Snaps is getting low so I gots to get some mo'
Loads up the K, break out the back do'
You know the routine, so punk fool, here we go
Same bat channel, keep your motherf**ing hands up on the dash
And gives up the cash
One-times is making a move on my a** (Gyeah)
But I ain't sweating it because ain't sh** funny
Because it's all for the money
[Hook]
Gyeah
I gots to get mine, so I'm a take yours
I gots to get mine, so I'm a take yours
Gyeah, Gyeah, Gyeah
Just call me the come up kid, G
Hard times kicking it in the CPT
So that means I gotta do what I gotta do
And if you ain't down with The Hype, f** you
You're coming up short when I ???
So when I hit your corner, you're gonna be a goner
n***a duck when my nine starts to buck
In it for the snaps so I'm crazy as f**
I should be laying low cause one time is real hot
Need to make a knot so I rush your spot
And it's like that when I got the feelin'
If you don't k** someone else does the k**ing
So when you hit the end of the road ain't no turning back
I done signed a hood lifetime contract
Jacking and packing cause ain't sh** funny
Because it's all for the money
[Hook]
Uh oh, there goes another beep on the beeper
One time sleep on the f**ing night creeper
Trying to show stop on the sales
Pull fake braids but I still gets paid
Just say no? f** the TV
Trying to push the sh** cause the weight is exceed
See me for the blast, Five-oh fly in fast
Mad cause I'm making more cash than they a**
Now I lay low in the cut
Label me the n***a with the f**ing gangsta strut
Every hooptie got gold license plates
My birds fly out throughout the f**ing states
Now my other half is telling me I'd better quit
But I ain't through in this sh**, so I guess this is it
I'll be dead before I go out like a dummy
(Why's that, G?) Cause it's all for the money
I gots to get mine, so I'm a take yours (Repeat 6x)