What We Go Through

(Whats up Warren G?)Whats happenin? I'm just chillin, you know
Checkin my game you dig, you know
Trippin off these fools around the situation, you know its like that

[Mr. Malik]
I went from hustlin and slangin to bustin and bangin
I got to keep it real, so fuck not cursin when i'm sangin
now let me tell y'all about this shit, went down the other nite
me and the doggs see some niggaz, just caught up in da hype
tryin to ride and get by like da FBI
cause we know bout them hk's, they right outside
but we never knew y'all had a clue bout what we go through
so tell how the fuck could you speak on my crew

[Badass]
I went from dirt to large work like boatloads of keys
It's hard work and it hurts to live life on ya knees
so God please have a lil mercy on my soul
What my eyes see my mind think my hand should hold
The outcome of these actions warm hearts turn cold
Lil snake tryin to blast me wit the gun he stole
We hang out, banged out, same route as the day before
Blessed wit perception, but don't know how my days a go
Could see my nigga hittin wit some pay, a few days ago

[Perfec]
Blaze up a flow, sit watch my paper grow
Cautious, in case niggaz wanna cross this
But they can't cross me, I'm way too flossy
Out here makin millions
All in wit the villians
Let's turn these millions to trillions
I've seen it all pop slow unfold, and go
Now it's time to get mo' dough, ya know
I play unda tha wrath a thunder
Electric shocks hot as da summer
More foul than funner, gun ya
In the open range, man it seems strange
Even sometimes deranged inside my brain
I hold the key, identify then flee
Every MC close to me
Cause I'm supposed to be all in wit my chips (nigga)
I'm all in with the crips and bloods
Grips for thugs, I nudge
The homey on his shoulda, cuz every day I'm gettin older
As the world turns and gets colder
Laid back I shot me sumpin, Perfec from dynamic, bangin G-Funk
[Warren G]
Well I moved from the East to the West
Word on the street, niggaz wanna test
But these MC's, is scared to buck
Plus they talk too much and smoke too many blunts
You fuckin rookies
Sweet as Mr. Smith's cookies
Ya hate me one minute and tha next ya wanna buck me
He sent a hoe, in the back seat of my fo'
While ya Goin Back To Cali, watch how you flow
Now ya know, about this Warren G Era
G-Funk terror, look into tha mirror