Tonart: G# minor
Verse 1
Red, blue, 18's,
MS
Boys in the hood,
South
Central in minutes
Finish your lines to the
Hollywood, no signs
Thrown up,
Bm
thrown up in these hardcore times
B
1986 to the current right now
Been holding it down with that
C
Wild
West style
B
C
Brawls, calls, shootouts at malls
C
D's with them clean white walls
B
Y 'all can't see this little city out west
In hell and death,
every breath holding small
in my chest, some cities try to hate, call us fake,
D
call us plastic, say it to my face,
B
let's get a race, get to ass kick,
put a lot of real homeboys inside a casket, before they
swallow pride, they would rather swallow acid,
riders to the death, I'm the same kind of
bastard, anger, aggression, we got it all mastered,
natural disasters, man fuck an earthquake,
live life now, get it right on your first take,
C
smile now, cry later motherfucker, and
B
C
B
All you perpetratin' ass bustas,
surfas, gangstas, skaters, hustlas
Long as you claimin'
Terra, bringin' in a new era
It's
Mid -City
Murtha, motherfucker, that you scared of
This is one of those motherfuckers
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