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Siide! Oh no, it's '98 y'all & we got some new shit |
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What we say? Yes ha ha fade the world in this motherfucker |
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that's right oh, check it out |
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-1- |
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Fuck what ya heard baby I'm DJ Quik |
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whether on T.V. or in these streets I'm still the shit |
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I went from drinkin' eight ball and makin' demos |
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to drinkin' Hennessey & Chivas Regal in the back of the limo |
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Gettin' my issue in life you can't hate that |
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and when I tell you about yo' self nigga you can't take that |
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'cause y'all be cross fadin' if you don't understand |
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you got a side and I got one but you be crossin' |
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over here to see what's in my hand |
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Yeah but that's cool too I gets my money on the double |
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that's what I do hittin' them brown bubbles and avoidin' trouble |
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hoes to choose with nothin' to lose |
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& a million mothafuckas wanna be in my shoes |
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But you don't understand, beyond the parties & cheer |
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I been broke my whole career breakin' bread with my peers |
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bought a '96 Impala the new SS |
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before the 20,000 mile mark I gave it to Sid |
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I could never bust a new shoe if my nephews ain't got 'em |
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Fila Jumpman Cortez yeah I'm comin' out the pocket |
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for my homies in the 'hood up on it when I'm around |
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'cause there's a difference between bein' a thug & bein' down now |
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Chorus |
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Bang bang boogie da bang da bang boogie to da |
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boogie bang boogie da bang fuck what you sayin' nigga |
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You's a gangsta! |
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No I'm not! |
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Nigga you's a gangsta! |
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No I'm not! |
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Nigga you's a gangsta! |
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<Repeat> |
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-2- |
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Just 'cause I kick it with killers don't mean that I do it |
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my occupation's a musician & I'm stayin' true to it |
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I went from bein' a rider to bein' a provider |
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while I was straddlin' the fence tryin' not to hit the divider |
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Just an impressionable human being tryin' to do right |
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every now & then I get my manhood tested in fights |
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like I used to have a beef with this cat named Eiht |
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and his homies approached me at the club El Rey |
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What was I to do I'm on stage & I'm doin' my thang |
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and this nigga's out in the crowd tryin' to hoo' bang |
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givin' it up for his homies & set trippin' too |
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but he wasn't from Rollin' 60's more like Tragney |
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I wonder what's his problem what he tryin' to say |
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Is this business personal or just Fuck Quik Day? |
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I approached him like a man & not like a nut |
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he turned around & put his drink down & straight knuckled up |
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In the dark club punches is flyin' all around |
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and even though it was me & him the rumors went 'round |
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and said I killed somebody now how that sound |
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How could I stomp somebody to death that's bigger than me |
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and I'm just a hundred & fifty five pounds tell me |
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Chorus |
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-3- |
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See some don't realize the power of lyrics |
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'cause when you rap about death you talkin' to spirits |
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You see you can say the things that can help us all ball |
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or you can say things that make it bad for us all |
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fix the problem the only way is come to the source |
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don't be a Trojan Horse help us change the course |
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everybody knows that it's bad in the 'hood |
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so check what you rappin' about if it ain't to the good |
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I did my part a long time ago I changed my views |
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ain't no gang bangin' & slangin' just hangin' with trues |
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give it up to my Creator & that you can quote |
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but mothafuckas still see me as a scapegoat |
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yeah like that night when Biggie died at Quincy Jones spot |
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like 400 other people yeah I heard some shots |
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broke away with the crowd nervous obviously |
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& the mothafuckas blamed it on me |
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What the hell!?! |
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Chorus |
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Check it out this song is dedicated to the two most prolific writers |
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in rap music history Tupac Shakur & the Notorious B.I.G. |
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It's also dedicated to the little homie from 60's |
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that lost his life at that party |
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Rest in peace y'all |
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And to MC Eiht when you get yo' head together maybe we can do a record |
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feel me I'm out |
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<DJ scratches> Bang bang ('til fade) |
