Bank On It

[Intro: Mausberg]
California, uh Sheppard Lane, John Doe
Booya
Blow ya hammer mister Quik baby
Downtown baby, downtown baby
Uh, we gets down baby
Uh, downtown baby, West coast for life
We gets down baby

[Verse 1: Mausberg]
Mister, mister Mausberg, Playa Hamm
God damn we the bomb
We the first and the last dons
Representas, pastime sinners on the rise
Young, black, money making riders who died of affiliation
Fool, I'm from Compton, real G's don't turn soft
Fool, we be stompin'
Rolls with my riders who be burgundy'd up, and blued up
When it's time for the rumble my dogs, we trued up
I don't lounge with the squad we gon' smash yo' ass
West side 'til I die, dog give us the cash
California to the N-Y, and the dirty South
Me and West the business, that's what I'm all about
Throw yo' hands in the sky if you can feel this
Good lookin' out Quik, Compton got another hit
Mausberg the superb's on his way to the top
Sheppard Lane, John Doe, fool it don't stop

[Chorus: Playa Hamm]
Day and night
Whether wrong or right
We gon' do it and it's gon' be tight
And you can bank on it
A Q-P of the dougie weed
Got the money straight comin' to me
So we can bank on it
The Hennessy melts the I-C-E
The white stars in the car for me
So we can drank on it
Straggleez wanna ride the D
From the desert to the seven seas
Bank on it

[2nd II None]
Gangsta D be mackin' hoes as I bounce through the do'
Cause pimpin's in my bones, fo sho', ya didn't know?
I slap a hood rat back, back with realness
Caught them hoes plottin' on my game, tryna kill this

Booya, we the realest
Ain't no stoppin', no tellin', no need to explain
But in seven years I've been game
Wonderin' tricks and niggas (how you sound the same?)
Mind yo' thang, I know it's hard to maintain

Mackadocious, like a mother, game like no other
We put it down with real, while goin' in with them rubbers
Straggleez 'ill burn ya, the streets we learn ya
Talkin' 'bout my scrillies, that don't even concern ya
At the mo-mo, had a trick slangin' cock in the room next do'
Trickin' with the po-po, baby get my money
All day, errday, no play, my way, KK

Still shinin' from the hood, dimwitted
When you turn the volume up louder you gon' feel it
If you want it, we got it
It's been on and it's poppin' never stoppin'
(KK, where you been?) I'm out workin' tryna clock it
All these lil tricks dressed up (what?)
And niggas scared to get they clothes messed up
Keep knockin', while ya chins keep droppin'
Think of 2nd II None, like a hot goose hop

[Bridge: Playa Hamm]
We got the bomb at the studio spot
And it's slangin' hella better than rocks
And you can bank on it
Non-believers got their heaters hot
Baby girl won't you trick that cock
So we can bank on it
The Hennessy melts the I-C-E
But put the Sheppards in a flask for me
So we can drank on it
Mausberg nigga, Hamm, K, and D's straight playas
Wit' a capital G and you can bank on it

[Verse 3: Playa Hamm]
Yeah, we grind to steal, I appeal to the masses
Break 'em off proper, make 'em shake they asses
Class is in session and me and Mausberg do it
Hit 'em up wit' the spit that'll put the glass on fluid
True to it, that's why I keep on comin' stuntin'
Got 'em runnin' if they bite they bone gummin'
Burn rubber, kick rocks, or push pedals cause
Cause every playa be thinkin' carry heavy metal
That'll blow they backs out like homie be puttin' it
Peep game, recognize Playa Hamm got his foot in it
Knee deep, when I creep
So world take notice, understand as I flow this
I bust to make 'em blow this (like the bomb)
It always be, act like ya see me up in this, it's been this
It ain't easy being cheesy
Show us the boss'n then sun up to sun rise, we winnin'
Wit' eyez on the prize, it's the beginnin'
So much money on my mind, I count G's to sleep
You betta be about that lucci baby
When you beepin' the P
2nd II None and I gets paid to keep it delicious
Gets paid, grantin' groupies' wishes, yeah
I come with Quik and they want it down they throats
East, West, North, South, so put this in quotes
I don't brag, I don't boast, I just wanna pay my bills
When it comes to the realism, I got skills

[Verse 4: Mausberg]
Open up yo' eyes to this non-fic
Y'all suckas didn't hear it
Mausberg it the realest
Ninety-nine is my year
To let the whole damn world know why
I'z be fly for life, eyes red cause I'm high
Give me the M-ic
And let me go booya!
For them critics who be hatin' on my gangsta style
Possessed by the funk with the P
Love for the G, but originally-

[Outro]
Put the bank on it