Call It Gangster Lyrics - Petey Pablo

[Petey Pablo:] 

I was so glad, when they said unto me 

Let us go into the house, of the gangsters 

[Chorus: Petey Pablo] 

If you don't call this gangster, I don't know what a gangster is 

If you don't call this gangster, you don't know what gangster is 

Said it's one thing to be real, but real ain't all a gangster is 

If you don't call this gangster, you don't know what gangster is 

I know 

[Petey Pablo:] 

I was so glad... 

I only smoke with the folks that came in when I came in 

I don't smoke with bitches cause I don't know where they mouth been 

Dawg I'm a celebrity, I got fans, I don't need friends 

I don't need security, cause they ain't checked me when I came in 

All that you impressed with, is what I already did 

The life you choose to emulate, that's the life I live 

Dream house, dream car, quarter past that 

That money that you makin, was my champagne tab 

Dawg, that's yo' girl? Be cool, relax 

I just need her tonight, call the phone, you can get her back 

You gon' ball then ball, you gon' mack then mack 

Your mouth sayin one thang, but your action don't say that 

You told me all aboutcha, and I ain't even asked 

Look at ya, nervous, jittery, can't stare me in the eyes can ya? 

Real recognize real, you can't deceive a gangster 

Short Dawg, Petey Pab', what was y'all thankin? 

[Chorus] 

[Too $hort:] 

I know you wanna live the good life 

New car, new house, what it look like? 

You'll never see it, tryin to be somethin that you're not 

You runnin to the car cause you don't wanna get shot 

But at the bar you was hard 

Ain't even no straps in your car, you better call the law 

They got guns, you got a cell phone 

Do some gangster shit, and get the hell on 

... You talked all that shit 

But a bunch of ass-whuppins, that's all y'all get 

Actin tough in the club 

You found out you was fuckin with some thugs; put them hands on ya 

So fast you ain't know what happened 

Outside seen 'em ridin in a fo' do' cabin 

Tryin to kill you, this shit is real fool 

You won't survive in the streets if you don't know the rules 

[Chorus] 

[Dolla Will:] 

Uhh; Black Continental, suicide golds 

Gators hit the flo', I ain't payin at the do' 

While you fly outside, waitin for the guest list 

And to get frisked, it's niggaz like me creepin with heat 

That'll burn ya crisp 

I'm at some work, you would open your mouth to kiss 

Why you at the bar, roused off Cris' 

No longer courageless, grabbin hoes by the wrist 

Chose one, mix wasn't hit, so you wet her clothes 

And said BITCH - put it on thick, like Lonzo in "Training Day" 

Not knowin she with a clique, that's aimin at your face 

Soon as they get word, hope your friends don't desert 

And valet got your Benz parked next to the curb 

You ain't a gangster, L7 

Quick to bail out, like a nigga in jail stressin 

A lesson to be learnt, bout what a gangster is 

Not only do we roll deep, so do a gangsteress 

[Chorus]