|
Ayo I never banged, and through it all, never changed my name |
|
They used to call me Young Blu, before the fame |
|
Like my cousin Smurf, heard about a OG who used to run that turf |
|
Then he got murked |
|
Puttin' in work with the Blacks when the Browns was beefin' |
|
I got my griefin' after school with the chicks grievin' |
|
Like Blu, thank God that wasn't you, ayo |
|
One week later, they got my homeboy too, ayo |
|
Dang, my cousin used to tell me, "Boy watch for them colors." |
|
Other than that, you be the illest mothafucka" |
|
So I pushed to the streets, I pushed to the beach |
|
End up pushin' more raps than I ever pushed trees |
|
I had beats from the best |
|
Just to make it known, I was a beast from the West |
|
Tryna get put on with the Snoops and the Games |
|
The Cubes and the Pacs |
|
Next thing you know they bangin' Blu on the block |
|
My nigga, bang! |
|
[Hook] |
|
When the times get hard in the streets, niggas bang |
|
When them right bars sit up on the beat, niggas bang |
|
When niggas sling cocaine all day to make change |
|
Niggas bang, niggas bang, niggas bang-bang |
|
Tryna tell ahk, "Watch where you walk", niggas bang |
|
When that spark set fire to that heart, niggas bang |
|
From the rollers to the lames, ain't a damn thing change |
|
My niggas bang, niggas bang, bang-bang |
|
[Verse 2] |
|
Now I'm back up on the block, rap shit locked |
|
Pocket full of money, no crack in my socks |
|
Shouts to the homies in jail with no bail |
|
And props to the homies that blow but don't sell |
|
They be like "Oh well, more room for the real" |
|
Popped a fake in the face for actin' like I can't tell |
|
Yeah it feels all good in the hood, I know it ain't |
|
Should be smellin' all good, but, I know it stank |
|
Tell the homie hold the shape while I blow that dank |
|
Roll the streets with that cannon like we rollin' tanks |
|
Unh, gold plates ho, I know they gon' hate |
|
Might as well get the gold plaques, and the platinum chains |
|
See me when you see me, 'til then, kiss the genie |
|
Spell G, me, you could never be me, believe me |
|
Put your CD on smoke, fuck PDs and the hoes |
|
And them niggs talkin' 'bout their shit bang when it don't |
|
My nigga, bang |
|
[Bridge] |
|
[?] |
|
[?] |
|
No stranger to the game, but you can't seem to relieve her |
|
You'll see her, when the morning comes |
|
[Hook] |
|
[Verse 3] |
|
Ayo, next thing you know, I'm in that county |
|
With a whole bunch of real OG's surroundin' me |
|
What you do when your name's Blu |
|
And you run into a Crip, a Cholo, a Piru? |
|
And everybody wanna know on the coast, what set you claim |
|
All my life I had that name, but never banged |
|
I'm from the Bridge, my folk from the 4th |
|
East side to the dro, and all the way back home, let it be known |
|
I got love for my block, love for my color |
|
Love for my streets, and love for my brother |
|
But a nigga put his hands on me, we catch fades |
|
Fuck I look like? 30, gettin' jumped in a gang |
|
And my peeps say, "How you keep peace these days |
|
If you ain't got a piece by your reach these days?" |
|
I say, my nigga, when you victim to the system |
|
It don't matter what you do, they always fuckin' with you |
|
So just bang |
|
[Bridge] |
