Tom: E major•
Intro 1
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Verse 1
I hang with these thugs.
Whut?
I'm from the hood,
Nigga.
I gives a fuck. (I gives a fuck.)
It's in my blood.
Since I was little I been
hangin' with these niggas.
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And till I die I gon' remain
with these niggas.
St. Paul in
The M- P- L- S, I hear you callin'.
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I put it down, yes.
Now, Chris Rock, where you at?
I heard you say some shit
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Nigga, this been your ass back.
Come see the real deal.
Stay in the fields, nigga.
These niggas will kill.
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This ain't no cap- gun shots, nigga.
This a glock, pah, pah.
It's death on your block,
These sirens start singing.
It's me and Yuk with the
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It's stinkin', freakin',
Bowlin' on the weekend.
Creepin, seekin'
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Me, till the currency
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Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks.
Em
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I'm double parked for the train.
F
Even your moms know my name.
G
Em
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I be the D into the M,
and the M into the G.
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And I bring the B- O- M- B,
Nigga.
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[Chorus] It's in my blood.
Verse 2
Smokin, sweets, drink forties to the suds,
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And fuckin' wit' these thugs,
nigga.
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That's in my blood.
Em
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You wonder why us niggas be hustlers,
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And out there slingin' drugs, nigga?
That drug money,
Em
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stuff that shit up under the rug,
And make that nigga bug, nigga.
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Em
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It's in my blood.
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turn niggas like you into hustlers.
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Fucking with us, fucking wit us!
Verse 3
Like a chain- reaction.
How it all happened.
Paps is slangin' crack
in the mid eighties,
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when shit was crackin'.
Niggas pay thirty- eight for a package.
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Tightly rappin',
G
For shippin' and handelin', taxes
was added.
E
That's where the A- rap's
headin'.
Even when I sleep, they in cavage,
Lavage shit.
Do automatics, with scopes,
drugmoney.
Em
Stuffin' that shit up under
Em
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we love money.
G
I'm a nigga, he's a nigga.
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Would you like to be a nigga too?
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Makin' big scrilla, like these niggas do.
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You probably be a drugdealer too.
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Scan and tuned, into the boys in blue.
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In the kitchen, bakin' up Peruvian flake.
It takes twenty- eight grams,
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Multiplied by thirty- six zips to make
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A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake.
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A hundred grams on the triple beam flake.
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Two point two pounds, to be straight.
My niggas just flew in from G- A,
Ready to buy 4 kilos,
Em
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Youngstown, Ohio.
So fuck these rhymes.
Em
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Let me stick my dick in your ear,
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F
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Em
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Em
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F
Nigga.
Verse 4
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Niggas
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portray themselves as low key.
Broken down and fabricated,
Easily ejaculated, table with,
and halfway faded.
Ain't no wars, 'cause they made it.
That type of bullshit is outdated.
But I played it like I laid it.
G
My partners have always said that.
Money, clothes and hos,
but road I chose was
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Niggas know just what it's
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like to be hustlers.
Em
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Governors from strugglers.
Bitches lovin' us.
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Blindly chasin' that life we lust.
Bottles, havin' thoughts
and iring dreams.
Goin' down and roll fast.
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Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen.
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Fried of me, huh.
Nigga for a hand that got me through
these eyes right to see.
But part not I was blind to the point,
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Not even I could see,
or that I could be,
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Obviously.
I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery.
Hit me with the type of mystery.
Lay it down like history.
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G
Em
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With the in tent of me, myself, an d I.
Street desire, easily.
Piece of mind, I was least to find.
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Em
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Some sassiness.
Hossisiless, it gets to shit and praise
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to the farmer innercist.
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Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly,
And I was discontent
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With the shit that life once sent.
Government depend,
now most of my time is spent
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Em
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Escapin' what I love.
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Em
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Em
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Verse 5
Outro 1
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