Al Kapone - Rock This

[Hook 1]
You bitches just don't realize livin' in the hood is do or die
He was once a thug from around the way
He was once a thug from around the way

[Verse 1: Al Kapone]
It all started back in the day when a nigga was slangin' rocks
Just like Pac, me against the world the shit just never stop
Straight out the mob terrace back in 1989
Mouth fulla gold new fur curl
Tryna come up, sellin' quarters and dimes
Everybody in my hood knew a nigga was straight
From the jump I had to come real
Just like my nigga Big Will
Watchin' out for the cops
Jumpin', grab for the knots
Broke ass [jockers?] with fake ass jewelry try'na come up one the rock
(My nigga talked [?] let me know who is true)
Never say your shit to a motherfucker you don't know, fool
The number one rule
(Because them undercover tricks be try'na pop a call)
Bashing there money ain't got no drugs, get the fuck on
But every then and now a nigga had to take a chance
It's all about coming up and only the strong survive
Fools, so what's up
Fuck singing a sad song I got's to get my hustle on

[Hook 2]
He was once a thug from around the way
He was once a thug from around the way
You bitches just don't realize livin' in the hood is do or die

[Verse 2: Al Kapone]
Everyday is a struggle, shits always on my mind
Looking for a way out, but it seems like a nigga just can't find
Got to keep feeling like Marvin Gaye, I'm just a troubled man
Gotta get myself a plan
Get on my feet know what I'm sayin'?
So, I'm hooking up with my nigga
Said he gon' fuck a quarter pound
On some California chronic and Memphis
Man, you know I'm down
Got my beeper from [?]
Brother from Just who plays my c's
Holla my dawg, money by decade
Get it crunk in Dixie Queen
Cocaine Wayne set up chopper on wigs
(Haters look to [?])
This is how we do this shit
(Bring the whole motherfucking click)
Real niggas work together don't matter how good or bad the weather
DDT doing there damn thang, fool what ever's clever
Keep them cross outs the fuck out of our business
When a nigga be doin' dirt them honky ass cops be looking for snitches
And you know we can't afford to let'em catch asleep
No more being ass out, mane
We gotta get on our feet

[Hook 2]

[Verse 3: Taylor Boy]
Big Glocks and nut locks take a listen
Cause I'm about to take you on a motherfucking mission
Black gat it's t-shirt, fresh gut and grey chucks
380 on my side and in my pockets brass knucks
I finna hit the steets where ain't no love for a nigga
I gotta stay strapped, cause in 1928 ain't no killer
Ain't no ice on feet, so why in the hell should I be slippin'
Puttin' in works the only way I make a livin'
Been a g it's wroten I don't wanna be [?]
Livin' on the edge of my goddamn life
Now fools talk shit to gert the upper hand
But in the end they find out what a man, what a man, what a man
Because I'm taking a sucker and hangin' him up like soap on the rope
Ease back motherfuckcer cause ain't no goddam joke
[Busters short pants saggin' rouhgh neck style]
Another nigga with his finger on the trigger, going buck wild

[Hook 2]