Get Low Playa, San Francisco, California, home is Fillmoe
Crooked cats, our neighborhood jacks, bare facts
We back, got scratch, no scratch, broke flat
Abidin` by the rules, survivin` not to lose the game played
Hustlers stayin` paid, hit the cuts doin` raids
Snitches is viscous, talkin` bout the guidelines
Slidin` down the side sidelines being blocked by the rollers
Hold up, hold on, it`s crucial in the drug zone with different mugs on
Gangstas, hustlers, playas
Must us deal with bustas causin` ruckus for the come up?
Violatin`, I`m just statin`, by the regulations you really should be playin`
Instead of fakin`, man, that`s real hatin`
Then we gettin` only the perpatratin`
Chorus:
I refuse to lose, I paid dues in the game
And won`t nuthin` change
Takin` tricks on worldwide trips ain`t my M.O.
Fame came back from demos
When I first enkindled with baby boo`s with new shoes
New doo`s and spandex dresses
All in the Hunter`s Point section of the city
Pretty momma lookin` proper
But she walkin`, tennis shoes talkin`
Often cats stay scratched cuz they have no other leisure
Time but to trust in a skeezer
Not every lady, but I know a few diggers
Who dealt with niggas cuz of they figures, and stripped `em clean
With the 17 heat to the cheek, don` t speak
Caught with a leak, drippin`, lay it down
Folks is broke and playin` round
Jokin`, get fooled not knowin` the rules
Everything ain`t cool cuz you got a piece
Put away with ya own tool, now you deceased
Learn the rules
CHORUS
Haters stop hatin`, playas keep playin`
The hustle goes on, paper flows long
My grip`s so strong I cannot let go of ghetto activities, robberies and
mobbin` deep
Big Caddie`s 93, now what you tellin` me?
Envy has you plannin` on spillin` me
Once a close comrade, blew bomb sacs together
Now it`s mortal combat, you down for whatever?
Switchin` outta jealousy, smilin` but backstabbin`
Mack assassinatin` over the skills I be havin`
Conversatin` with these hoodrats, should stack your paper
Saltshaker, woof, the broad taker, wannabe gangsta
Gossipin`, followin` crowds, breakin` rules, way foul
It ain`t my style to be dealin` with chumps
Only deal with the real scrill, put the real raps over real funk
CHORUS
