[Verse 1]. Desperado always drinkin' out the bottle. Young hyena with the HK hollow point staple spray. Turf tight soil block warrior from the avenue. Mean muggin' like I'm mad at you. Boiler make Baker's whiskey mixed in with my brew. Celebratin' smoking Mendocino bud this is the lifestyle of a thug. A hooligan a heathen wolverine everybody on my team got a triple beam. Tossin' candy to the dope fiends. Million dollar spot million dollar dreams. Four or five different colored techa-marines. Yellow diamonds and stones and two-way pager phones. Plushed out SUV's smokin Leprechaun. Flowers in the back seat watchin' Austin Powers with the windows up. Lost tryin' to get where we gettin'. Talking to the operator on my OnStar system. [Chorus x2]. This is the lifestyle that I choose. We smoke tweed get ki'd all day and drink brews. Which of these rap stars fart shit burp and get paper. Spray myself with sucka repellent and shake haters. [Verse 2]. Every morning I got to have a nice fat joint and a hot bubble bath. Wrapped in a Backwood or a Zig-Zag. Eyes red like a broad on a rag. My pants sag down past my waistline with the vive. When I leave the coffee table got my nine by my spine. Funkin' like its goin' out of style. Mo' beef than a cow speakin ebonics. Evonics and broken English from Venus. Intelligent hoodlums and geniuses. From the inner city Al Capones and Frank Nittys. From the ruler to the tutor hubba heada shoota. In the back for a hubble rock or crack. [Chorus x2]. [Verse 3]. See uh I just look like this but I'm really about my scratch. See what it is I want the po-pos to think that. I'm just as square as a box of apple jacks. I shoot craps drive GMC Avalanches and EXT Cadillacs. If you snooze you lose I know you got a lot a trust in your dudes. But check for traps and clues nobodys playin' by the rules anymore. Not even the people that made 'em up. My hood is corrupted and full of infidel one poverty. Not too much faithfulness mostly all betrayal. Mostly all my folks are dead or locked away in jail. Speakin' about some people that I miss. Tijuana Carter Ricardo Slay and Lisa Smith. Fred Tito Pat and Kobe and OG dead brother Fab the big homie. Hillside representin' this to the fullest. And all my homies locked down pullin' bullets. [Chorus x3].