text: When you come to my town, see we do it big in my city
  We can get this whole block shut down
  When you come to my town, see a couple things that aint pretty
  I apologize if it gets wild
  But we gotta represent ours
  We gotta represent ours
  We gotta represent ours
  We gotta represent ours
  When you come to my City
  Welcome to my city;
  Palm trees, find me; High as a hippie
  20 for the chucks, nother 20 for the dickies
  If you see them Boys in the Hood like Kenny better run like Ricky
  Snapback, hat back, quick tell em that we run LA; Track practice
  Now, you know where Im at you aint gotta mapquest
  Ridin down Hollywood, lookin for a Actress
  Tell em that it goes
  Thursday, eat in, Friday, my house, Saturday, Crenshaw, Sunday back at my house
  Rollin in a 64, somewhere down, 64
  Headed to the Jungles to the Don, See my nigga?
  Oh
  Born and Raised, I am no pretender
  Niggas know I came from the gutter like Splinter
  And I got Nina on my hip like a side chick
  Anybody ask tell em that its Westside bitch!
  H-O-U-S-T-O-N, T-E-X-A-S
  Am I trill bet they say yes, Im that cat that they say next
  HNIC I keep it G, just like that V Im at they neck
  Im a creature not Aretha but I do get my respect
  Run these tracks, lace up my Nikes; So I can go chase these checks
  When I get mine Imma thank my grind, walk in that bank, give Chase my check;
  Cash my shit, due self I split it
  Hop in that slab better brace yo neck, All eyes on me includin yo bitch
  If you want that ho keep yo ho checked
  Paint so wet that I gotta rock trunks
  We roll slabs and we dont do dunks
  Shoes be fours and they dont be pumps
  We smoke Kush and we dont do bump
  FN cocked and we dont do pumps
  One false move thatll get you slumped
  City of the Syrup where we sip that lean
  Put a 4 in that 20 and we on that punch
  Cadillac 24s, smoke tint, stash box
  Timberland, Pelle Pelle, Gucci Belt, strap slot
  New York, I said it New York
  Better show respect when you come to my city take yo shoes off
  I am at the toll booth, collectin my payment
  Hottest in the hood got my name carved on the pavement
  My niggas is A-List, in the corner office, somethin like royalty, princess in my crosses
  Hoes got em lined up, bitch take a number
  These lames layin paper on em I be layin lumber
  In the Rotten Apple, ballin like a Knickerbocker
  Now you can meet the Fockers; or you can meet the choppas
  Rat-A-Tat-Tat-Tat
  Tat, Tat, all my niggas in the Rack
  Drop that oil in that water, whip it up its right back
  In the Coup bulletproof, Ah, boy hood approved
  No limit money, they hollerin Hooty-Hoo
  Kells, from the city where, outta towners get jumped no Nike Airs
  Buyin a bottle in the club and throwin off another because a motherfucker plottin over my chair
  And its my year, this my day, me and all the boys all Smokey like Friday
  Hit the Eastside turn in the driveway, but I got power in the West, Kanye;
  My city taught me to speak that talk
  How to crack that stove when that heat turned off
  How to rock my Chucks till my feet fall off
  What to do when the lights in the streets went off;
  Ill D-I-E for the Orange and Brown
  LeBron left, I took that crown!
  Everyday on tour, but the 7-1 North tattooed let me know Im Cleveland bound
  Imma Midwest boy, salute my team, EST over everything
  THC up in all my green, lit it up for the people in the middle of the
  HOLD UP!
  Lace up bitch, Lace up bitch
  Anybody hate come taste it bitch
  Two white balls and a head above yo neck, thats called a facial BIATCH!
  See we do it big in my city, we can get this whole block shut down