[Intro: Mac Dre]
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("I—, I be—, I be—, I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("Money-makin', hoochie-sinkin' Crestside playa")

[Verse 1: Mac Dre]
I roll a '73 Chevy Caprice
Straight stocked out hubcaps and elites
A four-door mob shot, that's what I got
Burn a little rubber on a punk ass sahob (Punk ass sahob)
A fat ass fleet that's pumpin' the beat
A Zapco board to make things complete (Things complete)
I ride and side, whip and dip
Spotted in the seat with a joint on my lip (Joint on my lip)
Ready to take the cops on a high-speed chase
Put up your pink slip 'cause I'm ready to race
Man, I'm so tight, I just blow right
Past a motherfucker and yes his ho might
Flag me down the next time she sees me
But flaggin' down Dre ain't that easy (Ain't that easy)
Steady lookin' out for the black-and-white ones
So I can hit the gas, swing some tight ones
In my mob shot Chevrolet, I roll every day
And bullshit tapes I'll never play (Never play)
I bump $hort and Spice, and MC Pooh
That gangsta shit, I thought you knew (I thought you knew)
Man, I'm so cool, in my old school
Steady pullin' bitches when I hit the high school
(Hit the high school)
Short and tall, light and heavy
They all wanna ride in my Chevy
[Refrain: Mac Dre]
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("Listen to the bassline, don't it sound funky?")
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("Listen to the bassline, don't it sound funky?")
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("Listen to the bassline, don't it sound funky?")
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("Listen to the bassline, don't it sound funky?")
("I—, I—, I be straight Chev' strikin'")

[Interlude: Mac Dre, Khayree]
Mac Dre, tell these fools about Mac Mall
My homeboy Mac Mall ain't nothin' motherfuckin' nice, boy, I'm tellin' you. You better peep the game that he got from the Crestside streets
(That's right, playa)
You know what I'm sayin'? (That's riznight)
Fuckin' 'em up like that there, you know
(Playa shit, you know what I'm sayin'?)
Can't fuck with us, man. (For the M-A-C, though, yeah)
They can't fuck with us, man. We got too much game, mayne
Alright, Khayree, bring that shit right back. Straight from the Crestside, it's young Mac Mall
("Money-makin', hoochie-sinkin' Crestside playa")

[Verse 2: Mac Mall]
Catch me in the traffic, it's Mall comin' through in a '74
I'm known to blow your doors on the sideshows
With the shift kit tranny, n***a, what you think?
Put your mail with your mouth and we can race for bank
And on a full tank, watch how hectic I get
Strikin' with the SES when I'm tacked from the chronic
Ride slow just like the comp on the elites
And I'ma fuck your dome when I see you in the streets
But in the driver seat, stride it way too low, fool
When I strike, I watch what your ho do
Trick I know you hate the SES crew
We straight Chev' strikin' on these punk ass n***as, too
Fool, what you know about the Strictly SES soldier?
Fuckin' with the doja, it might have me in a coma
Nathan nice from the north of the Valley Jo
Chronic, Old Gold, spittin' game to pimp, playas and the hoes
Known to live illegal but Feds never find a trace
Never Captain-Save-a-Hoe, playas never wear a cape
Never rappin' fake and we zappin' across every state
Comin' up is my fate, so punks love to playa hate
But see I never trip because the Chev' is lookin' hella whipped
Every n***a and they bitch is sprung on this playa shit
So when you see me, man, punch it
Because we squat into the town with the Zapco adjusted
Fifteens bumpin' as I hit the highways on the turf with a smirk
Hittin' the block sideways
And I can swing it five ways, danked, always in a daze
Rollers try to fade, but trick I'ma stay paid
Fools try to ride, they know they ain't ready
The marks claim they mobbin' but they ain't strikin' them Chevys, mayne
We strikin'
[Outro: Mac Mall]
Yeah, though, nothin' nathan motherfuckin' nice for '93. It's Mac Mall hooked up with the Strictly SES Faculty. What's up, D-R-E? Yeah, I'm in here with Khayree gettin' real diznope, suckers can't ciznope. It's young Mac Mall, the dank smoker, ho choker, punk provokers, fool. Yeah, straight from the Crestside 'cause you know it's way too cold in the North Pole. Ain't nothin' but playas on my side of town, shuttin' these punk hoes down. It ain't nothin' but mail, you know, clientele, goin' on like that. Hittin' switches, pullin' these punk ass bitches. Yeah, what's really goin' on, though? Ha ha, we gon' see if y'all can fuck with this Illegal Business type shit that I spit. It's way too drippy, you know what I'm sayin'? Straight from the Crest-motherfuckin'-side. Like that, though. D-R-E, they can't fuck with us
("If you can't let your hair down then take it off")
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
(Can we go to the next cut?)
("I be straight Chev' strikin'")

("I be straight Chev' strikin'")
("Money-makin', hoochie-sinkin' Crestside playa")