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(feat. Fiend) [Mr. Serv On] I like to get that wild thing, street or city. Huh? What ya'll bout? Huh? What you bout? You bout some gangsta shit, I'm bout some gangsta shit They bout some gangsta shit, we bout some gangsta shit You bout some gangsta shit, I'm bout some gangsta shit They bout some gangsta shit, we bout some gangsta shit Ya'll niggas call your self killas, but ya'll don't know the fuck a killa is Oh I represent my block and I don't give a fuck about his I done been in the Bronx with Fat Joe and Big Pun, and ain't no bitches on theirs And I done roll through Watts where the mutherfucka killin And never motherfuckin stop Or in St. Louis, where a nigga break your muthafuckin' neck and step in your chest nigga that's what the fuck I call respect They ask me why the fuck I write these type of words Go to Memphis nigga and ask every nigga Why the fuck you steal so many quarter birds on the curb Better yet, go to Chi Town and ask every nigga in the Y 100's Friend Town or Madison Ave., why the fuck they wanna put they pistol down Letras de cancionesCause we soldiers nigga, with out a fuckin life And I don't give a fuck what city your from, nigga put em up cause it's on tonight Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Houston, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Dallas, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Atlanta, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Miami, and I don't like ya You bout some gangsta shit, I'm bout some gangsta shit They bout some gangsta shit, we bout some gangsta shit You bout some gangsta shit, I'm bout some gangsta shit They bout some gangsta shit, we bout some gangsta shit [Fiend] I, from the gumbo, where some for, smoke till they humble And when we rumble, and tumble, we strap till the sun go Ratta tatta pow, on my gun go, learned it from my uncle Get more then one shottie, maybe bout a trunk full Our love goes, duckin po po's, hoes on the go go Takin no no's, don't let the eyes close, with seven zeros Gotta hero, and sista, me, and only me Combat ready from the midwest to the California streets Nigga's that only take the heat, bring loud and foster beats Florida, Chi Town, to the Magnolia Leaf If you wanna keep your teeth, and have respect when you speak Represent your clothes and war thats hard as me [Mr. Serv-On] Strap up my tennis shoes, get choppers Bitch I'm from Baton Rouge, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Louisville, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Birmingham, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Mississippi, and I don't like ya You bout some gangsta shit, I'm bout some gangsta shit They bout some gangsta shit, we bout some gangsta shit You bout some gangsta shit, I'm bout some gangsta shit They bout some gangsta shit, we bout some gangsta shit Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers Bitch I'm from Streetport, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers From Letras Mania