Yeah,
Scott
Storch
[The
Game]
Yo
I'm
hoping
out
a
Phantom
with
a'
iced
out
medallion
Stallions
on
both
arms,
rocks
on
both
charms
My
Dominican
chick
looking
like
Scarface
sister
Red
and
curly
and
she
wake
me
up
early
Cus
hustlers
hit
the
block
when
police
change
shifts
New
York,
California
different
toilet,
same
shit
In
Brooklyn
I
rock
Timberlands
Still
toast
cinnamon
Been
gangster
way
before
he
dropped
many
men
Liquor
in
my
system,
voice
raspy
who
I
sound
like?
Don't
ask
me
that's
my
nigga
we
classy
Him
and
Montega
Jada
our
style
superior
to
haters
You
can
catch
me
in
the
latest
Marvin
Gaters
Ralph
Lauren
suit
tape
it
up
fly
cause
I'm
papered
up
Why
these
niggas
keep
hating
on
my
Phantom
I
be
out
in
Atlanta
and
body
tapping
I'm
probably
strapped
Toast
it
up
niggas
[Chorus:
Chrisette
Michelle]
All
my
hoods
on
the
real
dark
side
of
the
track
No
sunny
sky's
just
really
black
We
live
real
down
here,
Lord
let
us
live
No
playing
around
here,
Lord
let
us
live
Don't
hate
my
hood
just
hate
my
shine
We
coming
out
we
on
our
grind
We
live
real
down
here,
Lord
let
us
live
We
coming
outta
here,
Lord
let
us
live
[The
Game]
Now
who
the
fuck
want
war
with
the
human
gun
store?
Gangsta
rap
is
where
I
live
just
knock
on
the
front
door
Niggas
stunt
more
than
Jackie
Chan
What
the
fuck
them
faggots
saying?
Nothing
when
I
walk
in
the
club
with
the
gat
in
hand
Take
'em
back
to
'94
shooing
out
a
Astro
van
Banging
was
the
blueprint
money
was
the
master
plan
Duffel
bag
full
of
Grants
and
Franklins
Rob
niggas
take
they
money
shoot
straight
to
the
bank
then
Head
to
the
barbershop
to
get
chopped
up
Hearing
war
stories
who
dead
and
who
locked
up
Who
snitching,
who
pitching
and
who
knocked
up
Fuck
niggas
in
Black
Wall
Street
I
trust
Black
hoodies
and
black
Asics
standing
on
the
pavement
Hustlers
don't
sleep
nigga
we
work
the
grave
shift
Fuck
that
long
money
nigga
get
paid
quick
And
don't
save
shit
[Chorus:
Chrisette
Michelle]
All
my
hoods
on
the
real
dark
side
of
the
track
No
sunny
sky's
just
really
black
We
live
real
down
here,
Lord
let
us
live
No
playing
around
here,
Lord
let
us
live
Don't
hate
my
hood
just
hate
my
shine
We
coming
out
we
on
our
grind
We
live
real
down
here,
Lord
let
us
live
We
coming
outta
here,
Lord
let
us
live
Lord
knows
that
money
don't
matter
Lord
knows
that
status
is
badder
Lord
knows
about
the
hood
I
live
in
He's
taking
away
but
he's
giving
Now
don't
give
me
these
cars
Don't
give
me
these
mansions
Don't
hate
me
just
let
me
ride,
Lord
just
give
me
light
[The
Game]
I
don't
hate
Mobb
Deep
or
M.O.P
That
was
a
phase
I
was
caught
up
in
the
beef
like
a
rat
in
a
maze
And
my
legacy
will
never
be
that
of
a
hater
Lyrical
rhyme
slayer
wack
niggas
say
your
prayers
It's
the
return
of
Gandhi
Criminal
minded
city
behind
me
Put
it
on
my
face
to
remind
me
Of
all
the
shit
I
been
through
my
physical
presence,
my
pen
too
nice
My
first
album
sent
you
life
I
should
of
put
down
the
mic
when
Rakim
left
Dre
No
cleanup
hitter
so
I
was
stranded
on
second
base
I
had
to
steal
third
motherfucker
that's
my
word
There's
some
Queens
niggas
try
to
put
me
back
on
the
curb
I
was
ultimate
warrior
to
you
bully
ass
niggas
I
will
come
through
the
hood
with
the
fully
axe
niggas
Like
Snoop
or
Suge
I'm
in
the
coupe
I'm
good
Mothafuckas
make
way
[Chorus:
Chrisette
Michelle]
All
my
hoods
on
the
real
dark
side
of
the
track
No
sunny
sky's
just
really
black
We
live
real
down
here,
Lord
let
us
live
No
playing
around
here,
Lord
let
us
live
Don't
hate
my
hood
just
hate
my
shine
We
coming
out
we
on
our
grind
We
live
real
down
here,
Lord
let
us
live
We
coming
outta
here,
Lord
let
us
live
[The
Game]
Is
that
Michelle
Chrisette
Black
Wall,
Coollie
High,
Scott
Storch,
let's
ride
'08
to
infinity
California,
New
York
Scott
Storch,
Scott
Storch...