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I'm from the old hood, somethin like yo' hood
 Where niggaz don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
 So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
 Send it to Houston in a gray Mercedes
 I'm a product of my environment, grew up in the 80's
 So that mean, me Kanyeezy and Jeezy all crack babies
 And it's evident my flow is heaven-sent
 First LP, on the same shelf as the veterans
 Nigga I can't be fucked, like a lesbian
 I'm to hip-hop what Cartoon is to Mexicans
 I'm a artist, never claimed to be the hardest
 Just number one since B.I.G. and 'Pac departed
 Nate ridin with me, Snoop ridin with me
 All you other niggaz used to be good like Ken Griffey
 I'm on fire like the tip of a blunt
 On fire like a nigga that let it drip for a month
 I'm a Blood, you can Crip if you want, just let it bump
 like you got Scott Storch tied up in the trunk
 I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
 Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
 
 Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
 Too many bitches in the world not to fuck
 Too much chronic in the studio not to roll it up
 And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump
 
 You look like you mad as fuck, but who cares?
 Grabbin her by the arm, cause she stare
 Don't know how much atten-tion you pay
 You better be ready to die, in this game
 
 I thought I told y'all
 I'm done with the beef clown, my son three now
 And I've been watchin Dre so long I'm makin beats now
 Game on the rebound like Ben Wallace in the D-Town
 I mean Chi-Town, fuck it it can go down
 Nigga I spit the whole round, fo' plus fo'-pound
 Nigga this the wild wild West, call it a showdown
 And I'm Billy the Kid 'til they split my wig
 I come back from the dead, tell 'em kill me again
 Put my head on the barrel, dare a nigga to shoot me
 I'm gangsta, took more shots than Tookie
 I'm alive, so I'ma take a Patron shot for Tookie
 Roll a California blunt and keep watchin the movie
 Inspired by this gangbangin shit since I was two
 I brought the West coast back, what the fuck you do?
 I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
 Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
 
 Drive fast, both hands on the dash
 Close both of your eyes and hope that you don't crash
 It's lyrical homicide, both airbags out
 Roll the fuckin windows down, let the bass out
 Niggaz - drop the top on whatever in
 Bitches - let your ponytail blow in the wind
 Inhale the chronic, blow out dollar signs
 Nigga you can drive a Bentley if only in your mind
 Four doors, leather and wood
 Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
 And I keep a chrome fo'-five under my hood
 So if I die, nigga bury me under my hood
 Who had the hottest bitch in the game, wearin they chain
 Mr. H to the Izzo, Nas and Hurricane
 Long as my family straight, read this at my wake
 I gave 'em "The Documentary" and they scraped the plate
 Twenty magazine covers, nigga look at his face
 I can not, will not ever be replaced
 I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
 Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
 
 He wolfin a lot of shit, he look scared
 You can't find your girl, she right here
 I'm not a bad dream, I'm a nightmare
 Sides there's way too many hoes in here 
            
 
HATA BİLDİR
 
 
		
        
        
        
         
         
         
         
        
        
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