In My Neighborhood - Spice 1

Hey yo Spice, what’s goin' on man

That sound like 5−0 over there, is that 5−0?

Same muthafuckas that beat my partner down last week

But I ain’t trippin' I got the 187 proof by my side it’s finna be on

Is that right?

But where you stayin' at man, what’s goin' on?

Same muthafuckin' neighborhood, man

Just tryin' ta get this shit off the ground, this rap thang, ya know

Yeah I heard that shit, let these niggas know what time it is

Yeah, check it

I like to walk around my hood smokin' dank a lot

I see some brothers in the trees as they slangin' rocks

Runnin' through a broken down wooden fence

A nigga didn’t have brains 'cause he smoked sinse

Or sess or whatever you wanna call it

He got the task on his ass better haul it

Fiends suckin' up the crack in the backyard

Dropped a pebble on the ground, now he’s lookin' hard

Will he keep searchin' or will he cease and just forget the hit?

Or pull a jack move, and let the nine click

I’m in a cut late night about twelve o’clock

I see some brothas bustin' caps in a parkin' lot

There go my homies rollin' up in a black 'Vette

Nuthin' but the money for the paycheck

Another day a brother dead in the alleyway

That’s what the boys in the Bay up in Cali say

The California life, task in the palm trees

Brothers be clockin' G’s, slangin' keys

Up in my neighborhood

In my neighborhood

Funk is a part of my life

It’s the sounds of the gangsta Spice

One, check out the blast of a shotgun

Nine muthafuckin' milimeter have one

Or two or three or four

'Cause every brother in my hood is hardcore

Boom, boom to the death of a cop

Pop, pop, pop, see another one drops

Crazy ass nigga off the peppermint Schnapps

And now ya wonder why young niggas slangin' hoppe

Never would’ve thought I’d be a deala o' dope

Niggas slangin' and bangin' and breakin' necks and throats

The spot it was poppin', but yet the fuzz kept ridin' my jock

Tick-tock, I watch the clock, they flock

See a undercover cop raise off the block

That’s how it is in the game of slangin' rocks

'Cause on the TV they make him look real good

But Mr. Rogers ain’t got shit on my niggas up in the neighborhood

In my neighborhood

Welcome to the ghetto, although I call it my neighborhood

Some people get out, but some people stay for good

I see a dope fiend yellin' he’s a O. G

He scratched his head and started starin' like he knows me

I said «What up old man?

I seen your face before»

It was my homie’s pop, shirt dirty, pants tore

He had a 40 in his hand, left a little swallow

He said «Young ass nigga» and then he threw the bottle

I ducked down and I had to duck real fast

Stepped two feet back and then I banged his ass

I started kickin' and stompin' my nigga’s brains out

I heard a bitch yell «Freeze» and runnin' out the house

It was his wife and the bitch started bustin' at me

I can’t believe this shit, this bitch is trigga happy

Pulled out my nine and bust the bitch in the left titty

That’s how it is in a burnt-out dope fiend city

And now your sayin' I’m the nigga up to no good

I gives a fuck if your bullshit get jacked up in my neighborhood

In my neighborhood