Can't Tell Me Shit

Yeah, you got Celly Cel back in this motherfucker, once again, you know?

'Bout to drop this soul player shit on y'all

You know, nothin' but that realness, can you feel this, though?

Yeah, gonna ride with you **** 'cause it's goin' down

You know? Yeah

They say break yourself or make yourself

So I said, "Fuck it," bought a Glock, so I could take myself

Through all this old shit, a **** face as a youngster

Locced ass **** made that hillside a monster

OGs hoopin' at the school house and shootin' dice

In and out the pen, real **** made nothin' nice

Made this hog hit the brew, made me hit the weed

Eatin' up the whole house, moms know a **** keyed

Go to my room, sleep off my high, and hit the door

Tellin' myself I ain't smokin' weed no more

But you know them lies as the days go by

Me, Choo-Choo and Clyde smokin' dank 'til the sun rise

Walk into the school house, Franklin Junior

Back when it was cool to kiss and tell and spread rumors

Boxin' toe to toe and everybody in a circle

Sockin' motherfuckers 'til they eyes turn purple

Ain't no set trippin', no jumpin', it's just one on one

Fools throwin' things to the end, back then, it was fun

No gunshots, no need to hit the floor

But after school, the whole city loccin' up at Wilson park fool

To see a little league, a babe Ruth baseball game

**** was down there cuttin' up or throwin' things

Chasin' Fly Balls for hot dogs and fries bitch

But back then, you still couldn't tell a **** shit

Bitch-made **** can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Skanless-ass bitches can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Punk police can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Fuck you, bitch, you can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Bitch-made **** can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Skanless-ass bitches can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Punk police can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Fuck you, bitch, you can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Got a little older, now the park is a joke

'Cause all the ball players out there slangin' dope

Some of my **** is on grimmies, but I didn't slip

Ain't that a bitch, you can't tell a **** shit

So I mind my own, find my home, now I'm in the zone

Behind farmers in the alley, gettin' my money on

Had ten dollars and JB gave me the other ten

Bought a breakdown, now I'm gone with the wind

Brakes went to quarters, halves, ounces and QPs

The half ki's, now I'm sellin' weight to the Gs

Hit Oxford Street, spent a grip, now, I'm ready to go

To Hogan High 'cause there be bitches at the talent show

And football and hoop games had hoes

Vallejo and Hogan, you know it was on fo' sho'

Reece assists and Redge with the Tamahawk dunk

Then the whole town, mobbin' down to the waterfront

**** in Granadas, Cougars and Mustangs

Stars and Vogues, nobody fuckin' with them gold things

Me, G-Roc, JB and little C-Mo

Puffin' on indo, splittin' four double O-Zs

Young Gs tryin' to live

And when they shut the ship door, we goin' under the bridge

Gettin' whip-lash from the brake gas mash and dip

'Cause back then, you couldn't tell a **** shit

Bitch-made **** can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Skanless-ass bitches can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Punk police can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Fuck you, bitch, you can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Bitch-made **** can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Skanless-ass bitches can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Punk police can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Fuck you, bitch, you can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Made it to a G, but ain't no love in my city

Now we set trippin', all these fools actin' shitty

**** wanna reel me in, but didn't know

When you fuckin' with the big fish, you fuckin' with a funeral

No more toe-to-toe, HK-44's

Now, what they know about the motherfuckin' murder shows

Strap on my right-hand side, in the Bay Area

Shit is gettin' scarier, **** will bury you

Fuck the bird, I'm the **** bailin' through early

Trigger-happy **** with a head full of Shirlies, on

Christian brothers and chasin' it with Schlitz

Or drinkin' hurricanes with my **** in the click (in the click)

So deep, I can't call it

Spend about a million dollars at the liquor store, I'm just an alcoholic

40, Water and Legit put me on the map

Got my foot in the door, now I'm givin' up dap

Sick with it slash Jive, my nine to five

The shit I used to dream about is how I survive

Lifestyle of a mack, funk for life

Some heat for your ass, them killer Kali **** blast and smash

Without a murder weapon or a witness

Too many **** in your car, risky business, they turn snitches

Break down and have the po-po's at your front door

And all real **** know who rides sucker-free, on the solo

When you empty the clip, they can't tell a **** shit

Bitch-made **** can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Skanless-ass bitches can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Punk police can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Fuck you, bitch, you can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Bitch-made **** can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Skanless-ass bitches can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)

Punk police can't tell a **** shit (can't tell me shit)

Fuck you, bitch, you can't tell a **** shit (they can't tell me shit)