"Neva Left" as written by and Michael Cox Calvin Broadus....
Dogg, what up, mane?
Word on the streets is you ain't what you used to be

I gang bang to the fullest
A lot of niggas talk about it but they really don't do it, do they?
So I'm doin' it for y'all
Marco or bust, I'ma ruin it for y'all
Stomp that, strap up, mash up
And get it crackin' with the slapper, jacker
Smacker, rapper? Nah nigga, that ain't me
Gangsta? Yeah nigga, can't you see?
Rider, like the toners on my Chevrolet
West Coast, motherfucker, that's the only way
Yeah homie, what you say?
Home of the woop, womp and gunplay
A lot of homies shoot the J
But most of 'em prefer to shoot the K
Yeah, that's the good life
And where we come from, loc, that's the hood life
Where your mama and daddy
Throw the set up out the moon while they swingin' the caddy
That's on the set, tats on they neck
Streets sweet with the heat, yep, they stay on deck
I'm dazed and blazed, no confusin', I'm choosin'
This how I was raised
I bring that out and bag it up, no doubt
Swing it out and let it up and bang that out
This Crips, nigga

That's crazy, cuz
You know my whole life, I wanted to be a gangsta, mane
I used to see my OG home boys at King Park
Ridin' on bikes with their canes with they flags on the end
C. Walton, Stacey Adams, five-oh-one
That shit was fascinating

The Miles Davis of gangbangin' and crack slangin'
Drivin' a fresh rock, run 'em with blocks in 'em
Fresh out the county, I'm boxin' 'em
Moved on up and bought a continental, nigga, with knock in it
Now I'm rockin' it, six-one blockin' it
If y'all ridin' by, my nigga, we cockin' it
Poppin' on imposters, fake ass mobsters
East side niggas, ain't no stoppin' us
My recipe is treachery
The best in me, nigga, the West to be
A better place for the one of Ace
Put a nince millimeter in your fuckin' face
And let you say your grace before you have a taste
Of reality, set in, yeah, it's your fate
Now your homies at your funeral
Plottin' on some get back
But you can't get back 'cause nigga, you dated
Another sad gangsta story
And usually ones with the territory
No nuts, no glory
No pain, no gain
Life for a nigga growin' up in the game
This slangin' thangs
Drinkin', sell a lil' cocaine
Get locked up for a minute now we in it to win it
Now everybody know me
They watchin' the makings of a real OG

Yeah, they say if you watch somethin' long enough, you'll become it
You know, they say imitation is the best form of flattery
That's what I was told
A lot of niggas is imitatin' this real gangsta shit
You ain't cut from it
You dig?

Yeah, scarin' all the white folk
While stayin' on the right note
And you can quote me if you want to
Don't say what you will do, nigga, what you gon' do?
I'm live in the flesh
Caught him on Imperial left five in his chest
Survive in the west
It's a everyday cycle, you never know what might go blam
And how you like me now?
Crip 'til you slip, Mr. Big Bow Wow
Yeah, it's my chance to prance
I got ants in my pants and I needs to dance
I go for broke, no joke
I gotta put my drink down, I'm tryna C walk, loc
See I'mma take off, break off
And make off with the cash
At the pad with, a thick lil' bitch, she super bad

Gangsta, gangsta
Futuristics
Snoop Dogg
Forty-eight hunnid
C's up, yeah
Shooters, shout out to my home boys
Harlem Thirty, yeah
Real shit
All my niggas on the East coast
Six-oh's, Eight Tray, Hoovers
Main Street, all my niggas in Compton
And the South side, ya dig?
Nutty Blocc
Santana
Oh, can't forget them Long Beach niggas
East side the same
Rollin twenty Crips
19th Street
West side, you know what's hap'nin'
Saten Day, West Coast
North side four corner block
Old hood, yeah
Crip shit


Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

"Neva Left" as written by David Porter Calvin Broadus

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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