Lyrics:

I got a head, but ain't no screws in it.
Roll up and get swoll up.
Hold up.
How ya gonna play me like a sunkin dunkin donut?
I ain't came a long way to get checked
So give me respect when I get wreck or get your motha fuckin chimp
check.
Once again, it's your friend outta Oakland.
Hoping I rock the shit to get ya open.
Say your looking for some real shit.
Then catch a funkdified batch.
Like that!!
Oakland's on the map.
Tupac is on the big screen strivin.
Gotta love a nigga for survivin.
I wear alot of old schools jewels.
Look how the fools ??. Ooohh.
Stop lookin at me hard cuz your buffer.
But I'll just buck then bigger motha fuckas.
Turnin men to suckas.
Niggas wanna start a little ruckus.
Better duck cuz I'll be poundin them motha fuckas.
They wanna throw their hands up. Thats tight.
Hit em wit my eight. Never had shit left, right.
Then hit em wit the uppercut. Duck quick.
Shit outta luck. Fucked and stuck with that rough shit.
Fuck a pop song, fuck video, fuck Arsenio, fuck the radio.
Do you hear me though?
Give a holla to my niggas in the pen.
And my murderous parteners wit their Mac 10's.
I represent the real cuz I'm ill, G.
Glock cocked and then they kill me.
I'm representin'.
Peace to Redman, Tretch, Vin Rock, K-G the great one
Mary J. Blidge, Pete Rock and sure you're late son.
Heavy D, CL Smooth, and Queen Latifah.
Too Short, Tony Toni Tone,
And the Special motha fucka, Ed Lover, the Tribe, A Tribe Called
Quest,
and
Jungle Brothas. Das Efx, EPMD, and Ice Cube.
House of Pain: fuck these ? ass white dudes.
Cypress Hill, yeah, the ill niggas.
Digital Underground: my real niggas. -acap