More songs by BELLA
Description
A rough beat, smelling of asphalt and tobacco, draws out heavy words about the street, where friendship is tested by gunfire and trust is measured by the number of betrayals. There is no room for chance here - everyone is either a friend until death or an enemy forever. It seems like bravado, like boasting, but between the lines you can hear the weariness of the endless cycle of “revenge for revenge.” The music sounds like a chronicle of the neighborhood: harsh, loud, unadorned - like a warning and a confession at the same time.
Lyrics and translation
Original
I'm a with-it-ass bitch, don't need to keep a crew
Lil' shorty, and you know I only trust a tool
I'm a with-it-ass bitch, and we could roll the deuce
Put my dub in the air, what you wanna do?
I'm a with-it-ass fool, don't need a fake the funk
You could bring your whole crew, and you cannot get punked
I'm an active-ass fool, don't need to bark a little
Chunkin' four fingers up, two twisted in the middle
How many times did I done trust all these bitches?
Instead of making dough, they wanna talk who they been kissing
Stupid-ass homies turn their back and now they're dissing
Motherfuckers slick, but he got caught slippin'
How you say you G, when you speakin' on my name?
This goes out to them bitches who they're claimin' in a gang
Fuck your whole set, bitch, fuck what you bang
When you ain't around your homies, then you wouldn't say a thing
Told 'em, "I'm a thug, but I'd rather be with you"
Smokin' on a blunt, anything I wanna do
Huh, they ain't like it while they're bitchin' with the crew
That bitch got dropped, now she's tellin' all the news
Knew they were a rat, it's a race to the bank
I keep it with my shit, stayin' real 'til my grave
Stupid-ass bitch, what the fuck did you think?
My bitch in the stu', loaded with a AK
I'm a with-it-ass bitch, don't need to keep a crew
Lil' shorty, and you know I only trust a tool
I'm a with-it-ass bitch, and we could roll the deuce
Put my dub in the air, what you wanna do?
I'm a with-it-ass fool, don't need a fake the funk
You could bring your whole crew, and you cannot get punked
I'm an active-ass fool, don't need to bark a little
Chunkin' four fingers up, two twisted in the middle
Grew up in the jungle where so many tryna harm you
Watching all the cars, well, homie pulled up in the Mongoose
Bustin' out some shots, no holding back, he let them all loose
Yo' momma watched the news, that's how she heard somebody shot you
Homies all upset, load up the G, they want revenge
Pull up to their set, "I'm for it, and now that's what they'll get"
The cycle keeps on spinnin' as they catch somebody slippin'
'Cause there's no happy endings, either death, and time in prison
No need to force a friend, that's how life is up in the West
No time to second-guess, are you a victim or the threat?
By the time that you retire and look back at what it got you
Your name will fade away as generations start to follow
Open up a bottle and keep drinkin' 'til you wobble
As homies start to tap, well, your heart begins to hollow
And wifey never calls you 'cause the homies got her run loose
And now your biggest problem is the fuckin' hood forgot you
I'm a with-it-ass bitch, don't need to keep a crew
Lil' shorty, and you know I only trust a tool
I'm a with-it-ass bitch, and we could roll the deuce
Put my dub in the air, what you wanna do?
I'm a with-it-ass fool, don't need a fake the funk
You could bring your whole crew, and you cannot get punked
I'm an active-ass fool, don't need to bark a little
Chunkin' four fingers up, two twisted in the middle