[Verse 1: 40 Glocc]

The homies always told me it'd be days like this

When we was chillin' on the stairwell wishing we was rich

The judge got a grudge, wanna see me in court

I chose to say "Fuck 'em" and got my license revoked

I got front, back, and side to side

And what I don't get, I get it off another nigga ride

Run that chain, run that watch

Matter of fact, muh'fucka, run up out them socks

I copped the new 6 off the lot

I made a living off of niggas, taking shit they got

My wrist like light bulbs, a hundred watts

Got a bitch in Miami for a vacation spot

Call P, ask Hav, let me borrow the yacht

Yeah, I'm a little fucked up, I had a couple of shots

Rap ain't shit but a cover-up for me

After I run in his crib and throw the covers up on me

[Chorus: 40 Glocc]

Now everybody claim to be a thug

White T, jeans creased, and G'd up

We be chillin' VIP up in the club

Come strapped, bitch, 'cause we don't give a fuck

[Verse 2: Ras Kass]

We are not the same, nigga, I'm different

Rassy spit a tsunami, I will twist ya then

Fuck being hot, nigga, I'm blistering

Gun butt, uppercut, I will clip ya chin—get it?

Then I'll David Blaine, I'll lift ya then

Then they dip ya in, right after your moms go hysterical and kiss ya skin

And it's just a sin, I'm raised Catholic, go to confession and Crip again

I'm not the one, we are not the two

And your B.G.'s ain't acting so they not the zoo

I get it in like hard dick in wet pussy

In the pen on first watch 'cause them faggots killed Tookie

Now I'm back with a lust for that ragtop Bentley

Air Force Ones—fuck two pair, cop fifty

And I brought Glocc with me, 11-shot Lawson

Yeah, I brought Glock with me, my pop not picky

I love hot quickies, mushing a ho, stop hickey

Even hoes I meet on my MySpace miss me

You assholes the lamest of thugs

'Cause you kiss crack like Hoopz on Flavor of Love

[Chorus: 40 Glocc]

Now everybody claim to be a thug

White T, jeans creased, and G'd up

We be chillin' VIP up in the club

Come strapped, bitch, 'cause we don't give a fuck

[Verse 3: The Alchemist]

When I rap, I speak reality, I don't just talk

First of all, I'm the man that got the beats that rock

Got you saying, "How the fuck he got the streets that hot?"

Tryna double up the profit and increase that knot

Representing the rebellious youth

I don't beat around the bush, fuck the bullshit, I tell you the truth

Like the bitch who got with you, I could tell that she's loose

Only rap about the pistols, I could tell that you're new

Baskin-Robbins style, I'll put you up in a scoop

Every day is like the same shit stuck in a loop

This is for that young buck on the stoop

On the ones and the twos, with the needle straight stuck to the groove

I show it's nothing to prove, they loving my moves

Bad news for those that wanna fuck with my food

'Til the finish line, I'm stuck with my dudes

Different weapons I choose to use, step on my shoes and get abused

I dare you to make you turn it up

My sour diez smelling like I already burned it up

I put you on to something every time, I word 'em up

I hold 'em up, get 'em folded up, I hurt 'em up

[Chorus: 40 Glocc]

Now everybody claim to be a thug

White T, jeans creased, and G'd up

We be chillin' VIP up in the club

Come strapped, bitch, 'cause we don't give a fuck

[Outro: 40 Glocc]

I was standing on the corner, watching bitches walk down Crenshaw

Then I figured I would order, Earl's hot dogs and peep the lip gloss

That's when niggas got to trippin', some B dancing, some that Crip walk

Just another day in Cali, fool, just don't get lost in this part