Anita (feat. T.Y.)

Tippin' through the hood in the '64

Classic shit

Make you really feel this the West Coast

Home of the gang bang

Churches and the liquor stores

Big homies politicking

You know how that shit go

Sailing up big strawberries and some thick hoes

Stop to get a styrofoam of ice and some new posts

Holla at the homie, he from lanes been a minute

Fresh coat of paint on that thang still dripping

He said, "Watch out for them **** 'round the way

They be trippin'"

Bullet holes in the building

Just to show you how we living

Just when everything is cool

**** bust another mission

But we ain't worry 'bout it

Keep it pimpin'

Palm trees, cool breeze keep a **** calm

Helicopter bird flyin' 'round like it's Vietnam

You're my angel baby

Just like that Anita song

I bend the corner

She put fifty hunnid in my palm

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

And Jordan, Eastide

Uh

I learned the game from my bro

Yo' bitch opened like a door

I got so many homes

'Til I don't know where to go

Fool I got so many flows

'Til I should open a store

'Cause the game is fo' sho' to be sold not told

I roll up another doubie

As the saga unfold

Been the same since a **** was zero years old

Frozen cold, solid gold

Anchor and rope

Got the puffy Gucci links

And the Hugo Boss roll

Sunglass is Kango

Champagne stroll

Takin' sips, clockin' bitches

Feeling like Nino

Brown new J city

But my old heads with it

Schooled me so when I get it

I know what to do with it

Yeah, uh

Tippin' through the hood

Collecting my cake

My lil' **** said he moved three today

On the road to riches

Remember you gotta drive safe (Drive safe)

Gather 'round for this hot shit

I'm a fireplace

First place in any race

I'm just tryin' to concentrate

Without having to kill a **** (Yeah)

I really don't feel these **** (I don't)

Wasn't up in the conversation

Then you should mind your bi'ness

It's fucked up but we hustle infront the lil' children

We just tryin' to feed 'em all

Praying that they free my dogs

Ridin' 'round dirty

Hope I don't get pulled over by the law

'Cause if I do

They gon' be screaming free me too

Thirty years straight

For this iron I got on my waist

Everyday **** adding on to the murder rate

Hope you safe like slide in the home plate

Yeah, you're my angel baby

Just like that Anita song

I'ma smoke this weed with you

After you bring that paper home, yeah

(Bring that paper home)