from the streetz

, yo, this one goin out to everybody in every ghetto, turn it up and just so we accusin make sure it bumpin, this is for the straight thugged-out, the low ride pro's, triple o.g.'s with the hot six fo's, go fast ballers, bangin six gears, three time felons with the tattooed tears, for all the homies out there that cook it up good, distributin so up they project a neighborhood, whether it's peruvian or ghetto d, won't you bust down a kid and sell a ounce for me, i'm from the ghetto so the hoodrats gettin propers, real criminals, robbers and the pit bulls squabblers, puttin down thousands till there ain't nothin left, cause real street riders, let em roll to the death, i like fly shit so i scramble for the pay, rather hustle homeboy, then gangbang anyday, was down with the truce in nine-deuce though i looted, it's the y2k and i'm still khacki-suited, what you thought?, from the streets, from the streets, from the streets, tell em where i'm from!, from the streets, i represent where i'm from and i'm nutty as they come, i'm like them hot boys, got cash money and hot toys, plus them automatic things to make the pop noise, for haters that resent me, they jealous evidently, cause i flow through the city in a drop top bentley, but hustlas like me, just stay to the grind, pay you no mind and keep the safety off my nine, i ain't worried about you busters, we ain't scared to kill, i was beastin before rap, i'm a street nia for real, so check my resume and tell me what it say, i'm the same mack from the block known for pushing yay, i claim the turf and bang the hood from a b.g. now i'm eight figures up, and when you see me it's tv, mack ain't getting caught up in charged with murder one, when you got loose you don't do it, you simply get it done, now who wanna test and try push around mack, get this rap shit twisted and get your dome pushed back, huh?, back to them o.g. gangsta for life critic piss, see i'm insane bangin inglewood city kids, if rap fail today i'm back to cuttin chunks, pushin work through the hood from down south to the bronx, nan they trip if they want to and get cheap thrills, only mc with skills but not an mc with kills, and when the four kick i smash the letter pay the note, everybody say hoe if ya love mack one-oh, killas on my payroll's a chain of command, but my neighbors don't know; think i'm a family man, ha, i know sometime they wonder when the six four draggin, hair braided, tatted up and i wear my pants saggin, every room in my house stay flooded with heat, livin in the hills but i still got tied to the street, ain't shit about me change worldwide, i'm respected, i'm hoo-bangin now but i'm still well connected, you know?, from the streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiieeeeeeeiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooo, from the streets.