[Verse 1: Young Dopey]
Told Mr. Criminal
That I'm a criminal
That the way I live
Is sort of biblical
In my neighborhood
I’m a fucking general
Being watched by the police and the federals
Having visions of a meal ticket money back
Being broke that's something there I can't imagine
So I set a meeting up with the Crime Family
Had a blueprint to rob a bank
So we all planned it
Pass me the blammer
Bout to go bananas
Everybody down, if not I’m a let you have it
Hockey mask on, to conceal the face
Cause i can't leave my son alone
And fight another case (never)
Heaven on on earth
Give us this daily bread
Make it quick, if not I'm a shoot you in the head
I ain't got no type of muthafucking patience
Cause I was raised West Inglewood Crazy
Lately playboy I been struggling
Got to pay the rent
And my baby momma buggin man
She always bitching at me
Instead of hugging me
So guess what I'm out on the streets thugging it (west side)
Gotta hurry up fill up the duffel bag
Gotta scram cause the police gonna come fast
They rolling up, so I'm loading up
I ain't going back to jail
So the gun fire up
[Chorus: Young Dopey]
2-11, 2-11 in progress
2-11, 2-11 in progress
Wipe the prints
Off the bullet case cartridge
We ain't stopping till whole fucking squad rich

[Verse 2: Mr. Criminal]
Trucha, the cops is coming
I hit the exit running
Dopey lead the way
Pistols dumping, benz running (oh shit)
With that [?] front page
There goes Mr. Criminal
Coming up something dangerous
My stainless just ran out of bullets
The cops is getting closer
Pop the holster, pull the mini-AR out the Gucci bag
And smoked em, helicopter approaching
Stand off getting close
Car jack the first car we see
And got ghost
(Lord please forgive me, it’s simply just a way to survive)
My stomach hurts and I ain’t got no job
They don't know I pay the rent for my mom
Plus I’m trying to be the boss
And break bread with my squad
Boss shit
So a robbery must be the topic
Me and the homie dressing in all black
Like a gothic
Glock spits face down
Show me the watches
The ones with the rocks in it
She got nauseous
Beat her coworker down till he's unconscious
Find the surveillance tapes
That's the process
And quickly out the back
We made the exit
West shit, trying to hit the next lick
[Verse 3: Conejo]
Yo tengo rimas de alto poder
Ese all I see is squares
Donde quiera que este
Somos los chakas, blaka blaka
Asesinos en la cuadra, si les digo te matan
It's back to the hustle, C-O-Ene es el Rey
Cuando ando con la clika, whole maneuvers in play
Estoy al mil, nah estoy a millón
Homito S-K-Mob es el escuadrón
Doggy vengo por la calle en la x cinco
Ocho celulares yo me comunico, echo un grito
Rabbit caile pa ca
[?] la bodega ahorita vamos pa lla
Then I show up, roll up
Con todo mí equipo
Playa business on the table
Bout that chiva perico
Yo los brinco, hasta Carolina
Then it’s puro adelante soy el chef de cocina
Rock