Screens Falling

Screens falling from the sky

Boys swing in all those

Lil' throwed folks

We sunny side, for life

Candy on my '4, I'm so throwed

[Verse 1: SPM]

It feel good givin back to the hood

I'm tryin to make up for all the dope I cook

And for all the dope fiends I woop

Remember my first gun? I almost shot my foot

Surrounded by crackheads, I would wonder?

Will a nigga ever make it out this gutter?

Cops would come, all of us would run

There was nine of us, they couldnt catch one

Good old days, I wont forget

While I write on this laptop in this jet

With the Universal Records President

And they say everything I do

I'm the first mexican

Aint no love and aint no peace, bro

My 12 gauge shotty will make

Your chest look like a pizza

Things I do, I'm a goddamn fool

I'm puttin seventeen strip dancers all through school

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Coast]

And you can find me in a parkin lot

Parkin a drop, hop in the X5

Thats my, SUV, yes ma

Next time I pull up and

Some of that old crazy shit

I will roll down my windows and got

Seven inches for the radius

Maybe its the attention that I'm gettin

When they spinnin, or maybe

It's the liqour that I'm sippin

And got me feelin like

I cant be taken lightly

Cause I been poppin pills

So you aint gon' like me

I might distributing llello

Put you on my payroll

Supply with a bird

But you dont move it till I say so

Make sure you dont take

No money out from under me

Cause I'm the type of player

Thats gonna run up in your company

Dont trust me, cuz I never sober

Usually I'm gone off for that

Pink or Purple soda

You better move over

I'm not far from vomiting

Los and Coast's the shit

But still that diet aint no stoppin him

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: SPM]

I dont give a fuck, cuz

We some hustlaz, friends we once was

Now I once blood, scratchin on my six

Thats somethin that a bitch'll do

I'll bet you squat down everytime

Everytime you piss out brew

Tomahawk, show these niggas your tattoo

While we bang screw, Erykah Badu

Knock knock, pop trunk on the boulevarde

How the fuck you gon' act like you pussies hard?

Once again, S-P Man, true killer

Fuck talkin bitch, show me what to do nigga

Representer, bow before you enter

Theres a reward for a man that can find my temper

Sick and tired of you jealous-ass bitches

Send you to hell and you can call me long distance

Dont't run your mouth homeboy, you aint deep enough

Get on your phone and go and call some more people up

[Chorus]