Mc Eiht N` My Nighborhood Lyrics

N` My Nighborhood Lyrics

feat. Mack 10

EIHT:

Geah
Thug shit, nigga
G'z in the Y2K
Hey, what can I say?
Hoo Bangin's official, nigga
And right now we gon' do some of that thug sh*t for that as* 
(Killa)
Geah
That's makin me wanna do some of that evil shit
Check it out

EIHT:

Feel a little dust of wind, so I jet
This real nigga dwells from Compton, no shit
Thug's town, right now car jacks and sales
County bus rolls through, niggas trips to jail
What the hell, won't trade it, high class can't fade it
Out of town trips with pigeons is how we made it
Y'all niggas hate to get a dubs and rocks
Land of the green weed and cars that ???? hops
Don't stop, packin' my heat and beretta 
Guarantee my hollows goes tough through your leather 
Whenever the rhyme play or the 9 play
It's a done deal when I hit you run way
Y'all niggas must be gay, smilin' and shakin'
How this bit*h greed shakin' up money, we keep mention
Never fakin' the funk, punk, I pops the trunk
4-5 hittin' yo' body, takin' a big chunk

Chorus:

Till I die nuthin' but makin' cheese
Till I die tryin' to come up on ki's
Till I die nuthin' but guns and weed
Till I die givin' you just what you need

EIHT:

Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
Still is my reputation, caps get peeled
Front line nigga for dollars is my nigga
But I'm kinda fast when they spit the 9 triggers 
 
Till my dying day I lay away
Till my very last bretah, nigga, I swear to make you pay
Guilty conscience? Never me!
Last night nigga done caught a felony
Jealousy try to approach, wanna promote
Then provoke, through gun smoke, watch out, loc!
Shake down cause these niggas f**kin' with yours
Get in where you fit in, even if it's a back door 
Or the window, tie up the ho, where's the scope?
Trying to hand me you popped, you're booked, I want more
Lock down for me on the bus downtown
Now my outlook is a sad-faced clown

Chorus...

MACK 10:

Till I die is gon' be H double O
B-A-N-G-I-N fo' sho'
Niggas never thought that they would ever see me 
With my - eh - blue rag buddy from the C-P-T
We be kickin' in do's, sweevin' 4-4's
Shovin' 30 clips in a fully Mack 1-0's
So as the clock tickin' and the plot thickens
We be juggin' up Sherman and rockin' up chicken 
(What you need, nigga?)
Time to elevate the game and turn it up a notch
And bust on the muthaf**kin' neighborhood watch
My money greener than a clover and a 4-6 Rover
I be a millionaire thuggin until it's all over
I take a ice cold forty of Cristal and what they servin'
Me and a Persian hoe in a 6-4 blowin' doja while we swervin'
Keep that off the hood, greed and determination in my eye, nigga
Be my piece of the pie, nigga, so I ride until I die,nigga

Chorus...