The Life of an RB G
Man, it be hella hard. Living the life of a g. Now you may be thinking, “you white! you can’t be a g.” Well you see, down hear in baja cali, it’s real sunny so I got a tan (turned red, same thing) so I’m like part black now, right? Anyway, it’s specially hard in a ghetto like RB. xxxx, lottsa people’s parents don’t even make like $100,000 a year. But you know. That don’t mean that some of us ain’t livin ghetto fabulous. See, i’m a dealer. a businessman. I get the paper anyway i can. Sellin crack, bud, burned cds, encyclopedia sets. whatever. At one point I was the ice cream man. It’s damn cold in there an that muzik’s annoyin!!! But anythin to get the green. So you know, since i got all this cash i’m sportin the phattest threads, i got a fly ass ride, and tons o honeys be tryin to get with me. My lowrider is the s***! only have to change the battery once a month. Got these big @$$ speakers in the back too so everyone on my block can get they groove on to tight s*** like Puffy, Ma$e an Master P. Uhhhhhh!!!!! Man, too many fools be dissin P since he makes hella tight movies w/award winnin actin an plays professional b-ball. Yea, he plays for the hornets yo! He got mad skillz. Almost as kool as shaq. Yo, that boy can bust a rhyme! Also, too many peeps be like, “Puffy an Bad Boy are wack! They got preschooler rhymes!” They just jelous playa haters. Those same g’s be dissin’ my flow. Now I got mad skillz, yo. I mean, whenever I’m wit da homies dey always tell me to get the hell away. That’s how much I show up they skillz. I be sayin, “yiggity yo lil homie bust a phat beat to lemme start cappin my flow.” Check dis out: Uhhhhhh!!!/I thought I told you that we don’t stop/I can’t stand the rain/ Can you stand the rain?/Or the pain/Cause without the pain/you won’t make no gain/or no grain/or you’ll go insane in the membrane!!!! Man that s*** is bumpin!!! Yea, yo, see, deez foolios don’t recognize my mad skillz so i hadda show em my b-boy s***. These breakers were doin like windmills, flares, turtles an da like. You know, the easy stuff. So I got out there an was bustin my handstands an cartwheels. I was tearin it up. But those other jealous playa haters were like get outta here. So, you know. It’s hard bein a g man. I could get capped for a glare. An gettin hit in the head with those soda caps hurt yo! Still, like i was sayin. it’s hard growin up in the hood man. I mean i didn’t get no sega genesis, just nintendo an like ten games. But you know, the hood makes you harder. man, when i was younger, i was playin in the sand box. dealin my cane, a little bit of whatever (those candy canes sold damn good). Then one day, this dude was like, get off the swing it’s my turn. So I hadda get off. I learned a lot that day. That the world is cruel so you gotta be real to survive. A wigga can get so f***ed up in the hood too. Man, i got access to too much reefer an liquor. It can get so a wigga hasta guard his s***. To anybody that tries to jack my weed i be like, "yo kill whitey biaiaiaiatch!!! my 4-4 make sure all y'all kids don't grow!" So anyway, there’s a lotta phat parties here too. I was rollin up in my classic, a beetle, (my lil cuz borrowed the lowrider, he wanted to race some other kid’s powerwheels jeep) ready to put my sweerve on. First things first though. I had to tell em where i’m from. “Westwooooood!!!! Man, i be reppin da 619, yo!! Cali! Westside til I die!!!” Then everyone looked at me funny. That pretty fly for a white guy song came on an everybody had a good laugh. I mean that white boy be too wack. Then, I was talkin to deez hoes like, “wassup baybee! you wanna get wit dis!” an this loser guy started talkin to me. I was jus bout to hizzet the skizzens too, yo! The guy was all, “move out of the way of the drinks.” An I was all, “Check yo’self white boy! Betta recognize an back the f*** up before you get smacked the f*** up!!!” Next thing i knew i was in a garbage can. I woulda pulled out my gat if i wasn’t unconcious. Anyway, I got my mack on again when i rolled up on this shortie and said, “yo, give it up cause i know twenty different ways to make u call me big poppa!” She hadda wash her hair so i spent the rest of the night smokin on indo, sippin on gin an juice;laid back with my mind on my money and my money on my mind!
