Gangsta Report lyrics

[Chorus: RJ]
Rest in peace to the boy, in the streets, unemployed
With all these damn ones on me, it's a morgue
They put some bread on me, but what's in store?
Most my n*ggas got felonies, gangster galore
I'm a gangster for sure
Check my gangster report

[Verse 1: RJ]
Ayy, they ain't know I had the chop right up under me
And a Glock in the hood where the muffler be
Tell Pac that the hood still sufferin'
Ten o'clock on the news, 'nother murder scene
Bulletproof in the roof but it still drop
I peel out, burn rubber on the pill-popper
Lil' mama toss c*ck, she a drill doctor
Make her whip a soft rock like she Phil Collins, real honest
What's in the dark hit the light like a beam
b*tch on the park, I'ma fight, I'ma bleed
You ain't got heart, you a mark in these streets
b*tch, I do what I talk and I call what I see
I'm a real gangster, tight grill, big bank take lil' paper
Acc*mulate more cash, how you kill a hater
It's through the banker, gettin' a bag, feelin' innovative
b*tch, I been a gangster
[Chorus: RJ & Philthy Rich]
Rest in peace to the boy, in the streets, unemployed
With all these damn ones on me, it's a morgue
They put some bread on me, but what's in store?
Most my n*ggas got felonies, gangster galore
I'm a gangster for sure (Ayy, it's Philthy, n*gga, uh-huh)
Check my gangster report (Ayy, do that, Sem City Money Man)

[Verse 2: Philthy Rich]
Look, you was shootin' threes, I was shootin' enemies (I was)
These pus*y n*ggas crossin' game with no penalties (pus*y)
I been rockin' all Gucci, b*tch, double G's (Designer)
Check my gangster report, b*tch, I been a G (It's Philthy)
Because I'm havin' money, that don't mean that I ain't with the sh*t (Uh-uh)
Yeah, I'm still with the sh*t but now a n*gga rich (Sem City Money Man)
Drop a bag on his head and get a n*gga hit (Ayy, do that)
Have every n*gga in your city ride around with sticks (Philthy)
Really in my neighborhood gettin' crack off (Seminary)
I was really outside when it cracked off (Swear to God)
Yellow tape, brake pads on the track off (Is that right?)
Fourth of July, tryna let this MAC off (It's Philthy)
I'm good in every hood that I push up on (Solid)
Them blocks that I been, you never pushed up on (Never)
You the type of n*gga we'll push up on (Sucker)
Mini-skirt and high heels and your push-up bra, it's Philthy
[Chorus: RJ]
Rest in peace to the boy, in the streets, unemployed
With all these damn ones on me, it's a morgue
They put some bread on me, but what's in store?
Most my n*ggas got felonies, gangster galore
I'm a gangster for sure
Check my gangster report