[Chorus: The Game & Hurricane Chris]
Cadillac Escalades, candy paint, shop and blaze
Lookin' for the n***as that hollerin' that they was gangsta
2 2 3's on the backseat of the Lac seat
Looking for the n***as who hollerin' that they was gangsta
Ridin' with my locs on mask on bangin'
Lookin' for the n***as that hollerin' that they was gangsta
I'm ridin' with my locs on mask on bangin'
We gon' teach you n***as bout fuckin' with real gangstas

[Verse 1: The Game]
I'm hammered up, bandanna'd, 2 2 2 3's when the chopper blow
And I be loadin' banana clip totin'
My khaki suit represent what I be rollin'
The phantom roof open I'm smokin', smokin'
Cincinnati Red on my head no jokin'
Might be chokin' but I ain't slippin'
My Glock stay smokin' like
I'm smokin, purple haze, ridin' with K's
Split a n***a wig, fuck what he did
It is what is gotta live how I live
Black bird gang rappin' tongue off in this bitch
Til that day come I runnin' up askin' where you from
Hopin' that your swagger came with a mothafuckin' gun
So we can shoot it out
Everyday a n***a gotta bring the Ruger out
No fool about when the 2 2's is out
We disturbin' the peace
And the police would think we at Luda's house
So fool get out of your car
You totin' them choppers you know where you are
H-u-double-r-i-c-a-n-e times 2 mothafucka
We hittin' the swtiches
My chopper to me is like Ricky to Ross
The longer the clip the bigger the boss
They throwin' it up we gettin' it off
We burryin' n***as for thinkin' we soft
D's ride by we flickin' em' up off
Take off the shields we kickin' it off
Play off safety like Champ Bailey
Throw it my way I'm pickin' it off
[Chorus: The Game & Hurricane Chris]
Cadillac Escalades, candy paint, shop and blaze
Lookin' for the n***as that hollerin' that they was gangsta
2 2 3's on the backseat of the Lac seat
Looking for the n***as who hollerin' that they was gangsta
Ridin' with my locs on mask on bangin'
Lookin' for the n***as that hollerin' that they was gangsta
I'm ridin' with my locs on mask on bangin'
We gon' teach you n***as bout fuckin' with real gangstas

[Verse 2: Hurricane Chris]
I'm ridin' through the city
Lookin' for them hatas'
Who hollerin' bout they gon' do me somethin'
But I know they ain't gon' do me nothin'
Cause they don't really pose a threat
But if they really don't pose a threat
Then why you trippin' like you trippin'
Cause I gotta go get my respect
I'm stickin' the clip in that black Mac 11
And aimin' it at them bitch n***as that
Play me like a hoe I been gangsta since I was 4
And I'm so cutthroat that it really don't make sense
When they should of let me in the door
I speak shit that's hot enough to make the pilot leave the cockpit
Yo chick want to get wretched
That bitch told me I'm the top pick
I got so much money they invented a new wallet
My swag to the maximum
I'm flyer than a rocket
And none of you lil bitch ass boys don't want no problems
Most of them n***as who brought they guns be some cowards
But 100 round drum 100 buns at the [?]
We keep dirty revolvers in the console by the driver seat
Ride by his house without no talkin' and the choppers speak
[Chorus: The Game & Hurricane Chris]
Cadillac Escalades, candy paint, shop and blaze
Lookin' for the n***as that hollerin' that they was gangsta
2 2 3's on the backseat of the Lac seat
Looking for the n***as who hollerin' that they was gangsta
Ridin' with my locs on mask on bangin'
Lookin' for the n***as that hollerin' that they was gangsta
I'm ridin' with my locs on mask on bangin'
We gon' teach you n***as bout fuckin' with real gangstas

[Verse 3: Bizzy Bone]
A ghetto gang-banger
Mama couldn't grab me with hanga
Triple shots attack and lawyers with no retainer
N***ascall me an animal, I'm forever lucian lets kill
Anything movin' like Huey Newton
My Recruitants! Black panthers and black talents
All my gang-bangers, my heart face breakers with talent
Want a million, keep you hostage with all yo children
Ttry hold up by ransom
I'm psychotic like Charles Manson
Of the vernacular blood suckin' like vacula
Little mobsta eating that red lobster feelin' spectacular
[?] that's my stelo
I thought that wouldn't sell without ya sold 5 kilos
I'm a survivor, my n***as is dope dealers and riders
Killers incorporated, hate it
They despise us, mama they tryna kill me
I often wonder why, Mr. [?]
You got what's clockin'
Let n***as die I'm a genius