Here ye, here ye, y'all come kick it (Get a taste, get a taste)
Here ye, here ye, y'all come kick it (Get a taste, get a taste)
The hood done took me under, no wonder
I'm still, chillin' in the city with no pity
Stepped on my front porch to check my spot
[?] to the store to get that crooked I shot
I gots to have it in my body
Bring about two or three cases to the party
Yeah, don't give me that old school chicken bottle
Don't try to fool son, I want the cool one
The black can is the one that I'm lookin' for
Make a stop at your neighborhood liquor store
I save a quarter, just to pour it down
Know it tastes good to my homies *censored*
My Gs [?] and we chill like the outsiders
On my front lawn, profilin' low-riders'
I hit the main *censored* get loose
Reached in my pocket, get out my deuce-deuce
St. Ides, St. Ides (Get a taste)