[Chorus:] "Here come the gangstas...Uh huh and you can't see their face...Uh huh" [x2] "They're comin' for you"
[Verse 1:] CT all day, bad news all day Grade school teacher moved my desk into the hallway Trouble starter, mother/father taught me how to hustle harder See dough like Nino, but fuck The Carter, must be smarter Apply the profit 'till my pockets overflow Any opposition tryin' to stop it and I'll overthrow Comin' out buckin' like a cowboy on a bull at a rodeo Throw you in a hole below the stone where the ??? go Flows that all your homies know from Canada to Tokyo I'm steppin on your toes like an amateur that dosey doe Scientific, typical, a genius is the evilest Who raised hell so high, the Eskimos are feverish Be cool, 'cause me even dealin' with these fools Is kinda like a rocket scientist teachin' pre-school Y'all swear to God that ya gangsta gangsta But reality'll rearrange ya
[Chorus]
[Verse 2:] Even with all the hate and love that I've received I sit and read off the page 'till my iris bleed I've seen it all from the backwoods, 'burbs and trees Overseas, back to CT, home to me To them shitty city blocks, dudes hustlin' ki's Where the breeze blows excess weaves like tumbleweeds I'm up 24/7 with beats in my head No time to sleep, son, I'll sleep when I'm dead And I ain't really sweatin' all that MC shit Forget 'em, I buy backpackers and trendy chicks 'Cause when I start to see success, then the envy hits They used to love me, now I'm on their enemy list I'm tryin' to write the right song that'll get me rich Dip in the Hollywood hills 'till my Bentley flips My flow's fluid as a wave that a jetski skips My wife's Japanese and white, little sexy bitch My pen's a MAC-10, my freestyle's a shell My cell was set with a speed dial for Hell So...no more thinkin' that you're gangsta gangsta But reality'll rearrange ya
[Chorus]
[Bridge x2:] It's all gangstas, gangstas at the top of the list So I play my own shit, it goes somethin' like this
[Verse 3:] I'm the icing on the cake, money in the bank Inmates who make shanks out the mixtape case The look on a fiend's face when his lips taste base Is based on the fact that crack put him into outer space Based on that, if this is just based on rap I keep it basic and just bump bass on tracks In fact...A lot of y'all think ya gangsta gangsta But reality'll rearrange ya
[Chorus]
[Outro:] Yeah, Chum...another Skrilla Guerilla killa Demigodz, Doe Rakers What up, Celph? What up, Mo'? What up, Hoot? What up, Spliff? What up, E? What up, South Paw? Yeah...uhh! Uh!
Compositor: Chad Aaron Bromley ECAD: Obra #10674444