In My Neighborhood Lyrics - Spice 1

Hey yo, Spice 

What's goin' on, man? 

I see five-o over there 

Is that five-o? 

Same muthafuckas that beat my partner down last week 

But I ain't trippin', I got this 187 Proof by my side 

It's finna be on 

Is that right? 

Yeah 

But where you stayin at, man, what's goin' on? 

Same mothafuckin' neighborhood, man 

Just tryin' to get this shit off the ground 

This rap thing, you know? 

Yeah, I heard that shit, man 

Let them niggas know what time it is 

Yeah 

Check it 

I like to walk around my hood, smokin' dank a lot 

I see some brothers in the trees, is they slingin' rocks? 

Runnin' through a broken-down wooden fence 

A nigga didn't have brains 'cause he smoked since 

Or sess, or whatever you want to call it 

He got the task on his ass, better haul it 

Fiends suckin' up the crack in the backyard 

Dropped a pebble on the ground, now he's lookin' hard 

Will he keep searchin' or will he cease and just forget the hit? 

Or pull a jack move and let the nine click 

I'm in the cut, late night, about 12 o'clock 

I see some brothers bustin' caps in a parking lot 

There go my homies rollin' up in a black 'Vette 

Nothin' but the money for the paycheck 

"Another day, another dead up in the alleyway" 

That's what the boys in the Bay up in Cali say 

The California life, task in the palm trees 

Brothers be clockin G's, slingin' ki's 

Up in my neighborhood 

In my neighborhood 

(In my neighborhood) 

In my 

In my 

In my neighborhood 

In my neighborhood 

Funk, is a part of my life 

It's the sound of the gangster Spice 

Warning, check out the blast of a shotgun 

Nine mothafuckin' millimeter, have one 

Or two or three or four 

Cause every brother in my hood is hardcore 

Boom-boom! to the death of a cop 

Pop-pop-pop!, see another one drop 

Crazy-ass nigga off the peppermint schnapps 

And now you wonder why young niggas sling hop? 

Never woulda thought I'd be a dealer of dope 

Niggas slingin' and bangin' and breakin' necks and throats 

The spot, it was poppin', but yet the fuzz kept ridin' my jock 

Tick-tock, I watch the clock, they flock 

See a undercover cop raise off the block 

That's how it is in the game of slingin' rocks 

Cause on the TV they make it look real good 

But Mr. Rogers ain't got shit on my niggas up in the neighborhood 

In my neighborhood 

(In my neighborhood) 

In my 

In my 

In my neighborhood 

In my neighborhood 

Welcome to the ghetto, although I call it my neighborhood 

Some people get out, but some people stay for good 

I see a dope fiend yellin' he's a O.G. 

He scratched his head and started starin' like he knows me 

I say, "What up, old man, I seen your face before" 

It was my homie's pops, shirt dirty, pants tore 

He had a 40 in his hand, left a little swallow 

He said, "Young-ass nigga," and then he threw the bottle 

I ducked down, and I had to duck real fast 

Stepped two feet back, and then I banked his ass 

I started kickin' and stompin' my nigga's brains out 

I heard a bitch yell "freeze!" and runnin' out the house 

It was his wife, and the bitch started bustin' at me 

I can't believe this shit, this bitch is trigger-happy 

Pull out my nine, bust the bitch in the left titty 

That's how it is in a burned-out dopefiend city 

And now you're sayin' I'm the nigga up to no good 

If gives a fuck if you're Bush, you get jacked up in my neighborhood 

In my neighborhood 

(In my neighborhood) 

In my 

In my 

In my neighborhood 

In my neighborhood