| I grew up in the Bay Area, around a gang of robbin and shootin |
| Looked up to legends like Felix Mitchum, Huey P. Newton |
| And Todd Shaw a/k/a Too $hort |
| Blowin big hashis with dank that’ll make you choke |
| Young Mac Dre, causin major damage |
| Back in the days I tossed hoes in the back of my ham sandwich |
| Grown, gone, on bomb seed that’s hemp |
| Hound for potential prostitutes who need a pimp |
| But now I’m bendin corners, fresh out Taradas |
| Chokin on roper in the back of the Nada |
| Drinkin that snake bite, Yukon jack |
| And boy, I ain’t ride without my strap |
| Cause them cutthroat bandits will split yo wig |
| In the streets of Killafornia, ya dig? |
| It’s goin down, dog, I’m in your town, dog |
| Got to let your peeps know how I clown, dog |
| In the end get it, comin with that blackhand sound |
| You thinkin I can’t clown? Let me put my mack hand down |
| How yo hood look? |
| It’s full of gangsters, fool |
| How yo hood look? |
| It’s full of gangsters, son |
| You can catch me on the Eastside, doin my thing |
| Or you can me in New York, boy, it’s all the same |
| I’m from the Eastside, where the thugs, they shed blood for nothin |
| After the club you get it in your mug if you frontin |
| We gangbang, it’s just that our slang’s a little different |
| Aim a little different, spit game a little different |
| Got in with the Mexicans, pricin them things a little different |
| Same kinda crooks, but we cook up bricks a little different |
| Them old school Chevrolets, our Six Range a little different |
| Y’all gats and guns the same, but we blow brains a little different |
| Them drive-by's, we walk-by's, some die a little different |
| Lie a little different, testify a little different |
| Y’all trees ain’t got seeds, y’all beez a little different |
| The d’s is different, my pee’s a little different |
| Y’all sell bricks, we break it down, get cheese a little different |
| Y’all hate narcs, we hate cops, we eat a little different |
| Y’all got strips, we got spots, our blocks a little different |
| It get hot a little different, fools get knocked a little different |
| When the feds came, yo Dre, they took the whole block to prison |
| My man pops was snitchin, his face chopped in Clinton |
| If you got change and the gear hot, then switch spots, get missin |
| Yo hood ain’t no different, my hood ain’t no different |
| In my neighborhood everybody thuggin |
| Hoodrats steady gettin dug in |
| Fools buggin, mean-muggin |
| Later on you seem em noggin |
| Dre, I play my hood all day |
| Seen a fool get killed in broad day |
| Thugs get money from the hallway |
| 2 for 5, the tall way |
| Ghetto slang, ghetto game |
| We all just doin that ghetto thang |
| Run around totin them metal thangs |
| Really, homeboy, it’s all the same |
| Yo hood is like my hood, son |
| Anywhere you go thugs pullin guns |
| Gangbangers, ghetto birds |
| Yo hood is like my hood, ya heard? |
| Me and Killa finna leet you know |
| How to put a lick down and get some dough |
| From yo hood to Mexico |
| Cause it’s all about that paper, though |
| Put me up with Vallejo hoe |
| That puff on hay, stay on the low |
| Dre got work, 800 to 0 |
| Eastside thugs make money, you know? |
| I don’t care where we at |
| Just as long as we keep smokin fat |
| Get a fifth of Hen and hopin that |
| Everybody wanna stay chokin, black |
| I told you, Dre, our hood ain’t changed |
| Thuggin em well, slingin em things |
| Fools rock Rolies and diamond rings |
| Respect the game, our hood’s the same |