| Ollie ollie, oxen free | |
| Like one, two, three | |
| Red light, green light, one, two, three | |
| Yo, I pop six boxes, play some scalezes, uh | |
| Pitch the ball, | |
| I'ma smack that shit | |
| Yeah, ohh, goin', goin' | |
| Yeah, yeah, what up son? | |
| Yo, I got this twenty two nigga play me like | |
| Nah, I ain't got no bullets | |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah | |
| Top two for five, three for five, we rollin' | |
| Now I'm in too deep | |
| Only sixteen already hold a name in the street | |
| Makin' the fifth scream, rockin' older niggas to sleep | |
| Make a fiend strip naked, 'cuz he owed for a week | |
| Now the Squad's gettin' recognized, supplyin' connects with pies | |
| Pumpin' pounds of weight, nigga like exercise | |
| Joe been over quarter five with dope and homicide | |
| Long before | |
| Charlie got knocked, until | |
| Madonna died | |
| Young and not givin' a fuck | |
| There ain't a nigga | |
| I ain't hit when | |
| I buck and left 'em shit outta luck | |
| I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin' number spots | |
| Sendin' me to my room while he was puffin' pot | |
| Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what | |
| I sawStacks of money on the bed and the floor | |
| It wasn't long til' | |
| I did what he did | |
| I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived | |
| I went from grams into | |
| O's, pounds to bricks | |
| On the strip pimpin' hoes on some | |
| Goldie shit | |
| I'ma gangsta by destiny, | |
| OG's selected me | |
| I earned my spot, my whole team elected me | |
| Gangsta, gangsta | |
| I wanna be a gangsta | |
| My daddy was a gangsta | |
| Gangsta, gangsta | |
| I wanna be a gangsta | |
| My daddy was a gangsta(Yeah, unh, yo, unh) | |
| Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing | |
| But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again | |
| She started out fuckin' dudes that resembled her father | |
| Mom knew shoulda schooled her, but the bitch didn't bother | |
| You couldn't blame her 'cuz she got it from her | |
| She was a rider from jump, her pop's died in the hands of a chump | |
| Now she's mad at the world, no more daddy's little girl | |
| Now she's rockin' bandanas, no more | |
| Shirley Temple girl | |
| Now she be runnin' wit some scramblers that be down in | |
| AlabamaPackin' twin hammers, screamin', "Life doesn't matter" | |
| It's a vicious cycle, her game is pretendin' to like you | |
| Thinkin' you gettin' head, but she's just duckin' so they can snipe you | |
| Movin' from state to state, runnin' everythin' from guns to trains | |
| And pushin' packs from eight to eight | |
| You know I can't say her name, but she was a looker | |
| Pretty thin', such a shame how this life has took her | |
| Now she's raisin' | |
| Hell in the cell, no more his are hollerin' | |
| You might suffer the same fate if you repeat the followin' | |
| Sell drugs, use drugs, get caught up in the mix | |
| End up locked up or dead in a casket, that's it | |
| Gangsta, gangsta | |
| I wanna be a gangsta | |
| My daddy was a gangsta | |
| Gangsta, gangsta | |
| I wanna be a gangsta | |
| My daddy was a gangsta |
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