lirik lagu spice 1 - in my neighborhood
hey yo, spice, what’s goin’ on, man?
i see five-o over there, is that five-o?
same m-th-f-ckas that beat my partner down last week
but i ain’t trippin’, i got this 187 proof by my side
it’s finna be on, is that right? yeah
but where you stayin’ at, man, what’s goin’ on?
same m-th-f-ckin’ neighborhood, man
just tryin’ to get this sh-t off the ground
this rap thing, you know? yeah, i heard that sh-t, man
let them n-gg-s 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, is they slingin’ rocks?
runnin’ through a broken-down wooden fence
a n-gg- didn’t have brains ’cause he smoked sinse
or sess, or whatever you wanna call it, he got the task on his -ss
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 the cut, late night
about 12 o’clock, i see some brothers bustin’ caps in a parking lot
there go my homies rollin’ up in a black ‘vette
nothin’ but the money for the paycheck
another day, another dead up 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, slingin’ ki’s up in my neighborhood
in my neighborhood
in my, in my, in my neighborhood
in my neighborhood
funk, is a part of my life
it’s the sound of the gangster spice
warning, check out the blast of a shotgun
nine m-th-f-ckin’ millimeter, 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 drop
crazy–ss n-gg- off the peppermint schnapps
and now you wonder why young n-gg-s sling hop?
never woulda thought i’d be a dealer of dope
n-gg-s slingin’ 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 slingin’ rocks
’cause on the tv they make it look real good
but mr. rogers ain’t got sh-t on my n-gg-s up in the neighborhood
in my neighborhood
in my, in my, in my 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 dopefiend yellin’ he’s a o.g.
he scratched his head and started starin’ like he knows me
i say, “what up, old man, i seen your face before”
it was my homie’s pops, shirt dirty, pants tore
he had a 40 in his hand, left a little swallow
he said, “young–ss n-gg-,” and then he threw the bottle
i ducked down, and i had to duck real fast
stepped two feet back, and then i banked his -ss
i started kickin’ and stompin’ my n-gg-‘s brains out
i heard a b-tch yell “freeze” and runnin’ out the house
it was his wife, and the b-tch started bustin’ at me
i can’t believe this sh-t, this b-tch is trigger-happy
pull out my nine, bust the b-tch in the left t-tty
that’s how it is in a burned-out dopefiend city
and now you’re sayin’ i’m the n-gg- up to no good
if gives a f-ck if you’re bush, you get jacked up in my neighborhood
in my neighborhood
in my, in my, in my neighborhood
in my neighborhood
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