Yeah      Now this is for the G's who know we needs that gangsta shit   It's like the P-Funk we funk so its gotsta hit   And when you fire up that hooter pass it to the young G   The nigga Mista Quik, that's me from the C-to-the-P-to-the-T   And when I'm givin it up for my hood you can't clown   Cause when we lettin off you gots to duck down   And then we're rollin back to the spot where they hang   (Westside fo'hundred street gang) so it's a street thang   Makin that grip and stackin the chips high   Ballin never fallin I gots to stay fly   Whether they smokin up them beadies or rollin the joints fat   I gotta kick it with my niggaz cause it's like that   And you need to know I ain't for none, because I'm dumpin   The hollow point rounds that got everybody humpin   But niggaz they keep on mouthin, kickin up the static   But keep on talkin shit *machine gun* and I'ma let you havit      Yeah yeah   Huh, I'ma let you havit   Yeah   Check this      Somebody told me that you dissed me (bitch) in your video   But I ain't trippin cause I'm knowin you ain't nothin but a silly hoe   And yeah I said your monkey ass name in my underground tape   But if you peeped game you woulda heard me say   ("To the top of the tree, for C-M-W see")   We wasn't dissin lettin you know the other side was on a mission   Comin up with the Quik-ness, now you know who's dick this is   Down in the throats of the Compton's Most Bitches   So take this shit back to your set if you got one   And I'ma be puttin the double oh bugs in my shotgun   And if you come back fuckin around I'ma take your life   Why would you come back to a gunfight, with a fuckin knife?   So there it is MC Eiht, cause you're wack   And Mista Quik can beat the niggaz down with another sack   So keep on rollin in your Camry or your Rabbit but   if I catch you slippin in my hood, gotta let you havit      Ahh yeah   Gotta let you havit   Huh, I'ma let you havit