[Intro]
Fuck 2Pac that n***a ain't shit
That n***a ain't from muhfuckin' New York
That n***a be out there with them Cali n***as
Yo n***a man fuck 'Pac that n***a West Coast
That fucker that always with them New York n***as
Seen them with that n***a man that n***a ain't from the West Coast
Man fuck 'Pac fuck that n***a that n***a ain't really down
Rapin' ass n***a I didn't do it fuck it with that n***a
Fuck that n***a man fuck that n***a let that n***a go to jail right
And fuck that n***a fuck that n***a fuck you too n***a

[Collision]
I'm in this, motherfucker
I guess these muthafuckas tryin' to take me out the business right
I guess I ain't East Coast enough for my n***as back in New York
And I ain't West Coast for these n***as on the West huh?
Fuck e'rybody

*laughing*
Thug style out this, motherfucker, n***as, throw ya hands in the air
If you got jeep make ya speakers pop
I want motherfuckin' police tryin' to pull n***as over on this one
We takin' this one to the whole 'nother level gutter style thug style
You feel me, things that we can only do as a real G
We ain't dead yet
[Verse 1]
Hit me, I got my Hennessy find ya foes
In a room full of n***as tryin' to hide ya hoes
I'm gettin' high off buddha 'cause the times be slow
I keep my mind on dough you never find me broke
And who me? A n***a livin' life like a G
And that artillery keepin' n***as off of me
I can't sleep livin' in these wicked times, peep
N***as after me 'cause they see I'm stackin' G's and heat
You can holler if you want to, please!!
I ain't runnin' with no punk crew be, bleed!!
Enemies and my range is on, you're in the danger zone
My fuckin' game is strong, now hotline
You suckas better find ya mind I got mine
From hustlin' and bustin' them rhymes
To my n***as up in Quentin, down on Rikers Isle
Stay rile, but a n***a gotta use his styles

[Chorus]
These, n***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style
These, n***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style
[Verse 2]
I could be wrong but I never got along with cops
It's like they stuck from makin' n***as duck from Glocks (Freeze!, Freeze!)
And all the time, my mind's full of thoughts of ends
I'm still rollin' my bucket but I bought me a Benz (Tadow)
My fake friends say they love me but I know they lie
'Cause in the dark see they hearts full of homicide
My mama cried when they took me off to jail
Only me inside the cell, straight locked up in this hell
I hear some sucker screamin' like the demon's inside
Will 'em away in the mornin', only the strong survive
I cry, but in my own way swallow my pride
Pick a reason to hide from all the n***as that die
Cemetery full of brothers I buried it's goin' down
Even now I wonder will I still be around
My hometown is the gutter I was born a wild
I came up out this dust with my heartless style

[Chorus]
These, n***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style
These, n***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style
[Verse 3]
I remember Uptown, run catch a kiss
Listenin' to Mr. Magic cuttin' up the hits
And even though I had a habit
Makin' words rhyme I was caught up in the madness
Juvenile thugs come on
I tell the whole story nothin' but truth
Halloween throwin' eggs from the project roofs
And Pete and Lee young G's with a gift of gab
Tryna hook up with the hookers who was quick to stab
Remember mama's cookin', no school straight hookin'
And tryin' to get with light skinned 'cause she good lookin'
And jumpin' over turnstiles 'cause we ain't payin'
Call the cuties cuss words (Bee-yotch!) but we only playin'
I'm prayin' I can get a buck no luck
I had to move around a lot 'cause my moms was stuck
I had family but I was way too wild
Had to move to the West to regain my style

[Chorus]
These, n***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style (scream)
N***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style (my n***a scream)
N***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style (scream)
N***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style (scream)
N***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
Bitch-made ass n***as don't know my style
These, n***as don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the mothafuckin' cross, but my force was wild
Mothafuckin' bitches

[Collision]
Swear y'all know a n***a
You ever heard a motherfucka say:
"All in the Kool-Aid, don't know the flavor"? Haha
You mothafuckas all in my mothafuckin' LB and don't know the beat, haha
This shit thuggish, for life, I told y'all, it's album three, see
G sound, freestyle
Motherfuckin' Young Thugs in this motherfucker, that's right