作词 : Tyrone Griffen Jr./Quincy Hanley/James Ro Dernst Emile II/Maurice Young/Louis Mario Freese
 作曲 : Tyrone Griffen Jr./Quincy Hanley/James Ro Dernst Emile II/Maurice Young/Louis Mario Freese
 It's crazy 'cause we all started together
 You know, you go next door to Mario house (On the real)
 Y'all exchange video games, know each other on a personal level
 Now that these crackers got us at odds with one another
 We done lost sight of the greater good (On the real)
 We just live in peace and harmony
 'Cause we all come from God at the end of the day (Talk to 'em)
 L.A.-L.A., L.A.-L.A., ayy
 He either Blood or he Crip or ese, ayy
 I be out in Compton wearin' [?], ayy
 Then I slide to Bompton, rest in peace [?]
 I'm a West side nigga, get it, best side
 Got some real steppers with me from the East side
 2022, I'm runnin' for the mayor
 Get it posted, lil' homie, get your paper
 Momma kicked me out the house, she said I'm disrespectful
 My lil' brother went to prison, we was livin' reckless
 Sergio was next door, we did our first tattoo
 And you interrogate if you ain't got it blasted on you, ooh
 Welcome to the jungle, in my hand, holdin' thunder
 On my block, call my number, put your ass in the slammer
 Runnin' hot like the Cali' summer
 When I was younger, the division used to put us under
 Now don't you wonder? Feelin' blind from the one time
 See us in, at the county on the gray line
 And all I ever had was money on my ****in' mind
 Now I'm livin' in the war zone, gettin' mine
 You understand?
 You gotta get up outta there
 We was gonna walk out on them
 On they shit, the de Mayo thing
 So we did
 Ayy, eighth grade, I never want to stay
 We done took too many fades, tables ****in' up grades
 It was Black versus Mexican, fightin' in the locker room
 Walkin' down the block at night, hop out, pop at you
 Always with the extra, never turn down
 It was mixed dimes and dubs 'til we got the whole pound
 Po-po, police, always gettin' profiled
 Black, rest in peace, they did my niggas so foul
 Me and J, them, twenties took the fifties off
 We was out in '54, meals in [?]
 Push as hell, B, we got the bitty on lock
 Can't believe we lost your pops, always said we'd be on top
 Tried tell me, "Thug niggas don't live that long"
 Tried tell me, "Thug niggas don't live that long"
 They tried to tell me that I'd never make it, ooh
 I got pistols hopin' to fade, what's the play? (Ayy)
 Nigga, you gettin' smoked underage, feelin' godly (Ayy)
 This molly my only crime (Brrt, brrt), ooh, yeah
 Tiffany shades, this a wave
 For the fame we change, all we wanna be was gang (Ayy)
 Throw the charger or knock 'em, be hangin', we on the way
 In the mean, deaf crackers, we can't escape, uh
 Judge give me twenty, hell in my mother's face, agh
 Many men in minivan, hit the gate, uh
 Mask, hoodie, 'cause this Crippin' ain't got a race, uh
 Lord willin' until we runnin' out of faith
 No fathers and dead homies, another day (Brrt)