Shit Talkers

Original

Yeah, yeah, Big O So Low.

Changalini.

Creep, crawl, heat in my drawers. I'll beat you all if you break my laws.

I'm a hog from the dub, got my balls like a thug.

Sugar walls I love in the malls or the clubs. I'll be in your face, I'll be in the way.

I been in the stink with a homemade blade. I been on the block getting in from my knocks.

Then I bend the block 'cause I sense the cops. On my motherfucking nuts trying to lock me up.

Put me in handcuffs 'cause they can't stand us.

But I'm a motherfucking G and the world's in need of a player like me in my Raider fatigues. On my little hood

I'll never go back. I'll always be good to my red colored rack.

I'm a sag with the kids to gab 'til they zip that bag. I'm a flip a jack, another bitch turned bad.

-Man, fuck Changalini. -Fuck Big O So Low.

-Man, fuck those motherfuckers, man. -They ain't shit.

Man, all they some studio gaggle and shit.

Yeah, I'm popping off at the lips and shit.

Ha, they ain't popping no collars. They ain't spinning those motherfucking rims.

They ain't real. You the gangster?

Get your ass laid in a coffin with all that shit talking. You lucky chained up, dog, all you is get barking.

I'm like a baby hibernating in a rage. Every day's another situation when I turn the page.

In the cage breaking loose, what I spit is the truth.

You can feel the ground shake as I stomp in my boots. Baby cuffed white tee, mean mug in a beanie.

Dipping through the cuts of Cali with the homie Changalini.

Haters wishing they could be me, man, I'm cool with they shit. Try to stick to what you know and get the fuck up out my biz.

I'm a nickel and dime, I'm East Bay.

This my stomping grounds, I represent so homies respect when I come around. I do what I do, just leave it a day. I ain't a rapper,

I'm a gangsta about to shove you off the net.

I'm gonna take the spot you thought you had. Come on, bro, now don't get mad.

Just be glad I gave some recognition to a fucking fag. Man, Changalini 4000 ain't shit.

They ain't shit.

The Big O So Low, -man, you need to shut your mouth, boy.

-Talking a whole bunch of shit that you -don't know nothing about. -Nothing.

Talking about you some hustlers, boy, you ain't know nothing gang.

Yes, like that with some OG mack.

Beat your head with a bat, twisted off like a cat. Getting cash in the game, gonna catch that train.

With sags of the cane, got scratch on my brain.

And I gotta get it, but riches and bitches is what make the world wicked like some witches.

They want pistols on your front lawn, smoking blunts of bomb 'til the blunt's gone. Pistols in my pocket 'cause the funk's on.

I don't give a fuck, man, catch me in the cut, man.

In my old school truck, man, donuts in a Mustang. With a dime piece holding my nine piece.

On the grind for a G, this is where you find me. You gotta understand I'm a mack, man.

Get slapped with a strive hard backhand. You the Pac-Man working undercover.

You more of a sucker than the punk motherfucker bitch-ass Tommy Tucker.

Yeah, motherfucker, you talking all that shit, man. Now what, man? Changalini's in the building, man. What it do, man?

What it do? Get your. . .

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop.