bang, bang, L.A is were I perfected my slang//
each word i pick up and hustle like a basehead scramblin fo cans//
the shit be delight full cuz i got the whole world in my hands//
Words be endless like counting grains of sand//
All i need is yall chants to make a grown man pee in his pants//
searching for the next drop, i be dat silly rabbit dat hip hops//
like to tell it how it is around my red stop//
the twenty seventh street seems to be a parade to da dirty cops/
influenced by the images i capture in different city blocks//
the same thing everyday like a hooker eating cock//
i smell jenny o bacon, or it must be da pigs closin down shops//
yeah, punks make it hard for my peeps to even stay up//
trying to make a living by selling anything they got//
but these ss officers could give a flying fuck//
they wreck lives like the force of an F 5//
See what i flow is true; i be dr. frankenstein, makem come alive//
scenes that i turn into vocabulary pictures with a little fright//
bone chilling like a murderer overkillin yo mother with a knife//
i be da snakeyes sining off with the disco ball trying to stay alive//