| He just might go all the way |
| Goin goin, long gone |
| First, second, third, home |
| Oakland, athletic fit ballin |
| Four quarters, nine innings I’m as good as your last winner |
| I’m grinnin, caught up in it doors open |
| Ghost ridin dope smokin when u come to oakland |
| Hold it down for the bay, yup it’s a rap |
| Run up in the spot, can runnnin with tremendo slap |
| Move to the town, don’t do nothin like warren sapp |
| Major blaps, discoverin on the map |
| We some pimps, grab a strap just like the cops |
| Young gun, eets ts ts sts sts ts ts ts blow |
| Open up shot, poppin my collar |
| Cut throat people change for the mighty dollar |
| If you fakin now you never been real, coward |
| Goin 60, runnin red lights and |
| That xxxx go, that go, that go, that go |
| That go, that go, that go, that go |
| That xxxx go, that go, that go, that go |
| That go, that go, that go, that go |
| I said lean with it, rock, walk and pop lock |
| Get low, go, nigga, go dumb don’t stop |
| Goin mayne don’t let it |
| Knock it out like boxin and no sweatin |
| King of the… nah I ain’t gotta tell ya |
| Proof is in the put in, stop buyin dreams, we could sell ya |
| Matter of fact, dude built to last |
| Hit fast like cash before your xxx even touch the grass |
| Haul, gas, 18 dumbalafa |
| Hyphy mixed with crunk call it criphy juice in our trunk |
| Ridin like there ain’t no tomorrow, blappin motor hot |
| Got em stuntin, shakin they dreads at the bus stop |
| Talk to me rat, holla, man get at me |
| Clean pimpin, let me xxxx and twist em grape in the fatty |
| Lean with it, rock like the franchise boyz |
| No choir time, not listenin or makin noise |
| Young gun full of huh playin with the toys |
| Sukisa saki su, sum crazy boy |
| That xxxx go, that go, that go, that go |
| That go, that go, that go, that go |
| That xxxx go, that go, that go, that go |
| That go, that go, that go, that go |
| That xxxx wet, then tell me no warnin |
| Battery fully charged, all night from this mornin |
| One in the house and another for the car |
| Repped tiger woods beat 30 points under par |
| Put an egg your shoe baby, get far |
| Dime piece brizzle, oh for shizzle, cater to a star |
| They still call me, chef-boy-r with a platinum jar |
| Doin all-nighters, grinnin, grindin on a chicc |
| Do it back wudz he went this nah that nigga went that way |
| Ba ba ba ba baayyy, man we do this eryday |
| Let that go, go somewhere with all that |
| Take this xxxx from the tip-top to the way back |
| Raised in the oakland city, I was born to mack |
| Pimp talk from my mouth, words on the track |
| I shoulda handled, bring my money back |
| Still shootin with cannon how u wanna act |
| That xxxx go, that go, that go, that go |
| That go, that go, that go, that go |
| That xxxx go, that go, that go, that go |
| That go, that go, that go, that go |