Walk My Talk

Charlies on my chest and chuckys on my feet Ten yard dash when i hear the tires screetch Never stays quite in these oakcliff streets Keep ya head up and ya hand on yo machine Don't ever tell nobody about how you make yo green Gotta thank the lord that i made it to eighteen Chillin on da porch and its bout eight o clock Night time shift so i go for a walk All black with rims pulls up and just stalks Call the homie fredo but i get no time to talk Tires start screeching so i cut through an alley Hop a few fences but he still blastin at me Made it to the pad but i had to stop and breathe Take one puff of relaxation from the weed Stimulate my mind but im still not calm Head inside cuz im safe in the canton I walk the block Cuz i can walk my talk All these vatos starrin at me but i tell em kick rocks Saturday morning gotta take care of some shit Take a stroll to corner store then again i see it The same damn car holmes I couldn't believe it Quete by my belt its revenge im gonna need it Found out the foo is working at the spot So i head to the pad and rewrite the plot Later that night someone blew out his thoughts Cuz when you point the Gat You better not lack In the streets of oakcliff you get put in a sack Better watch yo words when you say youll attack Got some lolos in the street that'll really fire back Now the hood is hot But the droops is not Keep away from the hooda or your gonna get caught Especially from enemies or you'll get got Dogs been barking up and down the street Come to find out someone tasted the heat Layin on the floor with an all white sheet My homeboy said he gotta light the reef Cuz a blunt a day Keeps paranoia away Few hours pass by we hear someone is huntin Crack head walks by and asks why you not running Green light on the droops and you know they gunnin Got the three fifty seven i ain't worried bout nothing Ten o clock on da dot i hear yelling and jumping With a turn of the chevy I see them rolling heavy They screaming out loud this for the homie zelly Popping off the hollows while they hitting the pad Six rounds in my chamber not enough to get mad Homie fredo gives a call and says where you at Im the vato in the corner getting sprayed with gats Hear the homies give a whistle Cuz they packin the pistol Brains all on the floor cuz of the shotgun missle I walk the block Cuz i can walk my talk All these vatos starrin at me but i tell em kick rocks Now its hasta la vista you wont make it out Moseburg to yo head and it goes KABOW Go to church in the morning and they asking how Wash my sins away and im fully cleansed now Im not gang related But im homie affiliated Dont ask about the cliqua if you gonna say you hate it Cuz ima bust you in the face while I look you in the eyes Then tell all the homies while we shooting them dice And sippin on kawama while its droopy we bump I kill the mic every time cuz i cant fake da funk Shouts out to all the foos thats been down with the droops Gotta always keep trucha and that gangster attitude Keep one eye on all the levas And the other on the feria Playing with my money is suicide i tell ya