whitelines.

I run the city like a mad man With bandage on my bad hand I sliced tryin' to crack grams I'm from the south land We started off Runnin up to cars Until undercovers pulled on the block Out here frontin' like they smokin rocks Crazy thick shorties walk up to Mercedes Benzes Lookin for a John sorry baby but this ain't him And nowadays most my niggas is in state pens Or buried in the earth cause the opps was on some hateful shit Because of that, whip stay equipped with Mac 10s Niggas think I'm soft because I'm quiet til the chop hit That's no remorse, it's Mission Beach on some suave shit Pink Cadillac, Chicana baby in the cockpit I bet I set the south on fire when I drop this Gangland Javi, real grimy on the glock grip Might just body slam the city on the rock tip Hang tight, smooth as black ice when I drop, bitch