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Yeah Started off selling dope with twenty dollars Doubled my money, made forty, bought a fifty shot from this baller Cut it down to ten shots at two knots Made one twenty on the block and now I got to go re-cop A quarter ounce so I can bounce up to a whole And so son made some money back now I'm foldin' A little mail making sales copping zips now Getting my money on sewing up my side of town Getting fetti, now I'm ready to be the fucking man Trying to serve weight instead of having rocks in my hand Just yesterday my double ups just bubbled up Having all kinda dead presidents in my pockets crumpled up Stacking mail, clientele is what I'm buildin' In my buildin', straight dope fiends with ghetto children That's how I'm livin', been livin' there since a baby No if, ands no maybes and that's why a nigga just go crazy Or maybe it's the dank that make me think and stress With this nine make a nigga undress and cop to a less I'm just a young thug, selling dope and drugs The city that I'm from really ain't got no love The inner-city hoodlums shootin' up the block Because last week my nigga was on they side and he got popped And my niggas tryin' to go the right route And that right there keep a nigga stressed out I'm stressed out, mayne Letras de canciones With the realest niggas trigger-happy all off in Cali Jacking everything from a pizza man to a taxi now see We in this game we make D though Hit my track with a sack of two O's and a Desert Eagle Off some dosia serving 'caine, keeps me cautious of the 5-0 though But now I'm living that fast life, push the pedal to the floor So much game I developed from my older brother Maintain my paper and the hookers never to put before your business My potnas with riders on the corner slanging this yola Back with Berettas, we poppin' coppers Real hustlers serving these baseheads hubbas Now seeing this cream's making a killing And I'm on my turf jookin', keeps a grip in my pocket of my Pendleton Fuck them rollers rollin' violently when boomin' Seems a gang of folks come out when the set be movin' Them crack sellers, them dice shootas Them doped-out baseheads gone on that hooba A nigga stressed out Stressin', stressin' as fuck when a nigga gotta duck From the nigga bustin at your ass in a Datsun buck' So your best bet is to hit the cuts and creep Grab your H-K gun, nigga that's done so you can put these niggas to sleep Kids are bustin' and bustin' 'em while they tossin' me up From the bang, pop shake them more, bust Now these faggot niggas are smashin' through the cuts That's what I thought, fuckin' with this boy, a G Raised up in the back of the God damn fuckin' U-N-L-V streets San Fran-psycho, the land of the lunatics Where niggas will put the gun in your mouth and unload the whole clip Ruthless when the [?] god damn, fuckin' riders that's down with ninas Case we gotta smash up on them marks like them fuckin [?] Blastin' at task with a face mask keepin' away from the jackin' Because I'm a black ass ghetto inner-city hoodlum assassin A violent nigga known for packin' a tec, a Smith & Wess Decapitate nigga's heads up quick, put fifteen holes in your chest Because a nigga like me stay the stressed off the dank Too many stressed out bosses that's in this mine field go blank 'Cause a nigga readdy to take out a baller with the clout Me and Swoop and U-N-L-V and Cellski straight stressed out Got a nine, your ass is in the line of fire Put a pause on your life now you'll just retire 'Cause when you fuck with Swoop you get fucked real quick Bucks on that ass, like I was Steve Seagal, bitch It's that real [?], got that choice you better feel me In killa Cali, where niggas show no fuckin' pity About a bitch at all, never sip that eight ball But pop me some of that Hen' and that Mad Dog Twenty twenty, I got ten on a twomp sack Let's roll it up, blow it up, get lit, 'cause it's borin' on the track And plus them rollers out all damn day y'all Let's dodge 'em in the cut, get these punks off our balls 'Cause I'm doing illeg' up in these inner city streets Packin' grams giving up tens four for thirty So when you roll through the 'view look for Little Swoop And I'm a have 'em fat all damn day for you And for the hoes, you ain't gettin' no love Me, plug a hoe and make myself look like a punk? Hell nah, I ain't gone brown-nose in ninety-four 'Cause that ain't how the d-o game goes Stressed out From Letras Mania