[Verse 1:]
Kill n***as dead, peel n***as heads
Kill or be killed, that's what a real n***a said
I'll spill your blood red, why you still in the bed
Cause I know you're squealing trying to make a deal with the feds
I'm a east side n***a, a sea side n***a
City by the sea, what that beach like n***a
We creepin' in the dark while the street lights flicker
Who ever make it home is the one who squeeze pipes quicker
Rims on 300 C's dubs on the chargers
Everybody trying to get their thug on the hardest
They don't care if you rap get dumped on regardless
Why you think the cops find guns on us artists
Crooked is a psycho, creepin' through your momma's house
Just to take a picture of her sleepin' with my llamas out
Just to show the people who I'm beefin' with what I'm about
Hood Politics Obama will knock the drama out
Livin' in the fast lane, bitches wanna slow me down
Say I'm in the streets too much, hate when my homies 'round
But they should love it cause my homies they gon' hold me down
Bros over hoes no meow is gonna show me how to live
She don't know nothing about them killers in ya crib
Waitin' to split your wig, ya dig?
She's the first one that's talking to the pigs
Like, "Miss, calm down just tell us what he did"
She said I ran out in my boxers and my wife beater
Start letting off with a chrome .45 heater
Damn, yesterday I was thinking I might leave her
Now she rolling over on me like a light sleeper
Thank GOD! I didn't tell this bitch my real name
Told her I was a Junior, she thinks my name is Lil James
Now I got a few problems that I gotta fix
Talking to the C.O.B.s discussing Hood Politics
[Interlude]
Yeah, I'm over at this bitch house, man
I'm fucking the shit out this bitch, I'm nuttin'
N***a fall out and shit
I hear some n***a playin' some loud ass music
Look out the window, just to see who was making a disturbance and shit
And it's this n***a who said he's gon' get me it's on, on sight
So I'm figuring I got this n***a, I got this .45 under the pillow
I'm finna run outside and give it to this n***a, right
I wasn't even thinking, I was just like, yo, I ain't gon' let him get me
So I just ran outside, boxers, wife beater and I start yacking at that n***a, like
Bap, bap, bap n***a(Gun Shots)
Then n***as start peeling out, the bitch is freaking the fuck out
I mean I forgot the bitch was even in there, man at that point
Now I got a problem

[Verse 2:]
Yeah, some n***as wear red, some n***as wear blue
Some n***as don't bang but they kill ya too
Some hustle if you fuck them on a deal ya threw
We part of organized crime like Sicilians too
We charging rappers for protection just to stack some chips
So you can walk around icy and they won't snatch your shit
If they do they getting killed man and that's just it
Cause now you fucking with our money we take action quick
My little homies cut off half your dick
Them bastards sick, they're psychopathic missing half they wits
They ride around driving matching whips
Heavy strap blowing G's on hot jeans and active kicks
And they love Crooked I cause he crazy yo
Twin pistols in the Bentley while the AC blow
Block Obama in to change fuck the Ra-d-io
I know, some of you haters hate the way he flow
Cause they think every rappers formula should be intricate
It ain't real hip hop if you spitting that simple shit
I don't buy your bullshit, not even a little bit
Bootlegging your favorite rapper you're just a hypocrite
File sharing without caring, you're raping your man
Same lame creep backstage is shaking my hand
He don't know about the hidden four fifth in my waist
You should tell me how you feel so I can spit in your face
Pistol whip a motherfucker Crooked I don't mind
I make the front page of every website online
From the 5-6-2 to the 9-0-9
Keep a blamma on your waist I keep a nine on mine
Hood Politics
[Outro:]
There's industry politics too ya know what I mean?
They say it ain't real hip hop if you a gangsta rapper
Cause you rapping about shit that go on in the hood
But how is it real hip hop, if you downloading your favorite rap artist for free?
You ain't supporting your real dude out there
That ain't real hip hop either
Who's to say what's real n***a?
This shit is real, n***a
It's C.O.B. on mine
Crip or blood I die trying to unite these n***as, I don't give a fuck
You better ask tiny C-style man
I pull up in the Denny's
I'm ghost riding a bentley n***a
Yeah I jump out that motherfucker to this sniper shit right here n***a
Let that motherfucker just roll

Hood Politics!