{*inhaling*}
Yo, Unc' you wasn't lyin' 'bout these muh'fuckin' cookies, cuz
{*exhaling*}
All this money I'm makin'
They thinkin' Mason, but I ain't Pappy
Yo Unc', as clean they come, fuck it, my braids nappy
My older bitch wanted to kick it, I put on Rick James gladly
(?) for the same caddy, that (?) with the same navi'
I'm up early at the crack of dawn, movin' like a (?)
Uncle Snoop in the coupe with group (?)
Bad bitch twistin' my locks, Jack in the box
Do it major, slang my flavor as I stayed on the block
They raided the spot, I'm hot, devilish features, but heaven sent
Pimp shit, mink to the floor, my bitch in leopard print
I don't trick paper on your chick, somethin' I never spent
Just me and Snoop, twin drop coupes, cookie's the medicine
Sky walk in the everglades, cuz, I'm forever paid
Cut from a different cloth, I guess I'm a renegade
Drinkin' Crip juice with a splash of some lemonade
We on Daytons and we skatin' like a icecapade
Gelato we can light for days, on God I'm a boss now
Uptown nigga, I was up in Harlem knockin' Dogg Pound
Used to the water nobody get nervous if it's sharks round
Chains glow in the dark now, foreigns, I hardly walk now
Used to run, now I walk, all the cases I done fought
All the bud that I done bought, and all the bitches that they thought
That they could get a piece of my establishment
Looky here bitch, I ain't havin' it
If I blast the shit, watch the opp do a backward flip
My Backwood lit, FN got a plastic grip
Had an advantage in the trap was good at math and shit
Used to bag up to Doggystyle, you can't imagine this
It's like a, action flick, with the mackin' pimp
The rap I spit will hit you like a tag and split
Bag the fit, blue rag, sag for this
You mad as shit, my nigga East bagged ya bitch
Got blue diamonds, blue hoodies, feel like I could never Crip enough
Unc' put on for years, who am I to fuck tradition up?
Don't even trip nephew, just clean the kitchen up
And keep it Crip'n for life, never switchin' up, (never) yeah
Real talk (real talk)
From Dogg Pound to Uptown
Real shit (real shit)
You can't spell West without the ES
You know what it is (you know what it is)
Real hustlers, real Crip'n (real Crip'n)
Shout out to my nigga Mars
MyGuy, for hookin' up this motherfuckin' beat
Yo East, I told you when you hit the motherfuckin'
LAX, touch down, nigga
Cause I got that bubblegum
That real shit, that real Crip shit
You what I'm talkin' 'bout
That hubba bubba, that blue bubblegum, cuz
You can't get it no where but here, for real though
Have a little bit of that Crip juice, with a splash of lemonade
And a bubblegum Backwood, and you gon' be aight
You understand me, yeah, East