This is the final boarding call for flight 1259 departing from Los Angeles. Final destination to St. Louis. Thank you.
[Verse 1:]
Damn, G, the spot's gettin' hot,
So how the fuck am I supposed to make a knot?
Police lookin' at niggas through a microscope,
In L.A. everybody and they momma sell dope.
They tryna to stop it,
So what the fuck can I do to make a profit?
Catch a flight to St. Louis,
That's cool, ‘cause nobody knew us.
We stepped off the plane,
Four gang bangers, professional crack slangers,
Rented a car at wholesale,
Drove to the ghetto, and checked in a motel,
Unpacked and I grab the three-eighty
‘Cause where we stayin', niggas look shady,
But they can't fade South Central
‘Cause bustin a cap is fundamental.
Checkin' out every block close,
Seein' which one will clock the most,
Yeah, this is the one, no doubt,
Bust a U, Bone, and let's clear these niggas out!
— Ay, ay, man! Whassup, nigga?
— Yo, well, this Lench Mob, nigga!
[Verse 2:]
Now clearin' ‘em out meant casualties,
Still had the L.A. mentality –
Bust a cap, and out of there in a hurry,
Wouldn't you know, a driveby in Missouri!
Them fools got popped,
Took their corner next day, set up shop,
And it's better than slangin' in the Valley,
Triple the profit, makin' more than I did in Cali,
Breakin' off rocks like Barney Rubble,
‘Cause them mark ass niggas don't want trouble,
And we ain't on edge when we do dirt,
Police don't recognize the khakis and the sweatshirts,
Gettin' bitches and they can't stand a
1991 Tony Montana.
Now the shit's like a war
Of gang violence, where it was never seen before,
Punks run when the gat bust,
Four Jheri curl niggas kickin' up dust,
And some of them are even lookin' up to us,
Wearin' our colors and talkin' that gang fuss,
Givin' up much love,
Dyin' for a street, that they never heard of,
But other mothafuckas want to stand strong,
So you know the phrase, once again it's on.
Top of the news tonight, gangs from South Central, Los Angeles which are known for their driveby shootings have migrated into East St. Louis, leaving three dead and two others injured. No arrests have been made. Police say this is a nationwide trend, with similar incidents occuring in Texas, Michigan, and Oklahoma.
If it can happen here, it can happen anywhere!
[Verse 3:]
Boom! My homie got shot he's a goner, black –
St. Louis niggas want they corner back.
Shooting in snowy weather,
It's illegal business, niggas still can't stick together.
Fuckin' police got the four-one-one,
That L.A. ain't all, surf and sun,
But we ain't thinkin' ‘bout the boys,
Feudin' like the Hatfields and McCoys.
Now the shit's gettin' tricky
‘Cause now they lookin' for the colors and the khakis,
Damn, the spot's gettin' hot from the battle,
About to pack up and start slangin in Seattle.
But the narcs raid about six in the morning,
Try to catch a nigga while he's yawnin',
Put his Glock to my chest as I paused,
Went to jail in my mothafuckin' drawers.
Tryin to give me fifty-seven years,
Face'll be full of those tattooed tears,
It's the same old story and the same old nigga stuck,
And the public defender ain't givin' a fuck –
The fool must be sparkin'
Talkin' about a double life plea bargain.
“You got to deal with the Crips and Bloods by hand, G,
Plus the Black Guerilla family.
And the white pride don't like Northside,
And it's a riot if anyone of us die.”
No parole or probation,
Now this is a young man's summer vacation.
No chance for rehabilitation,
‘Cause look at the mothafuckin' years that I'm facin'!
I'ma end it like this ‘cause you know what's up,
My life is fucked!
— Police, eat a dick, straight up!
— Look here, you goddamn nigger, you're not gafflin' nobody. Get down on the goddamn ground now!
— Let me take a shot at him!
— Fucking move, now!
— Man, fuck you!
— We're gonna do you like "King"!
— What goddamn "King"?!
— Martin Luther King, Rodney King, and all those goddamn kings in Africa!
— Look out, mothafuckas!
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