Fat Joe - Gangsta lyrics

Ollie ollie oxen free! Like one, two, three
Red light, green light, one, two, three
Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes
Pitch the ball I'mma smack that shit
Yeah, ohhhhhh, going going
Yeah, yeah what up son?
Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like
Nah, I ain't got no bullets
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah
Top two for five, three for five, we rollin!

Now I'm in too deep
Only sixteen already hold a
Name in the street makin the fifth scream
Rockin older niggas to sleep
Make a fiend strip naked cuz
He owed for a week
Now the Squad's getting recognized
Supplyin connects with pies
Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise
Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide
Long before Charlie got knocked
Until Madonna died
Young and not givin a fuck
There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I
Buck and left 'em shit outta luck
I'mma gangsta like my daddy was
Hittin number spots
Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot
Still I use to peak from the door
Couldn't believe what I saw
Stacks of money on the bed and the floor
It wasn't long til I did what he did
I was an innocent kid and got exposed
To the life that he lived
I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks
On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit
I'mma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me
I earned my spot, my whole team elected me

Gangsta, gangsta i wanna be a gangsta
My daddy was a gangsta gangsta, gangsta
I wanna be a gangsta my daddy was a gangsta

Yeah, unh, yo, unh
Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing
But 'less we rhyme time we
See her do it again
She started out fuckin dudes
That resembled her father
Mom knew shoulda schooled her but
The bitch didn't bother
You couldn't blame her cuz she
Got it from her she was a rider from jump
Her pop's died in the hands of a chump
Now she's mad at the world
No more daddy's little girl
Now she's rockin bandanas
No more Shirley Temple girl
Now she be runnin wit some scramblers
That be down in Alabama packin twin hammers
Screamin "Life doesn't matter"
It's a vicious cycle
Her game is pretending to like you
Thinkin you getting head but she's just
Duckin so they can snipe you
Movin from state to state
Runnin everything from guns to trains
And pushing packs from eight to eight
You know I can't say her name
But she was a looker pretty thing
Such a shame how this life has took her
Now she's raising hell in the cell
No more his are hollering
You might suffer the same fate
If you repeat the following
Sell drugs, use drugs
Get caught up in the mix
End up locked up or dead in a casket
That's it