[Intro: Too $hort, Interview Clips]
It really hasn't been brought up too clearly
The Luniz and Too $hort everything has been squashed
Yeah we want everybody to know, that it's, you know
The Oaktown ain't about this
The media hypes up things when they're wrong
But doesn't give enough praise when everything is going good
We should just do a cut
Don't even mention no beef or nothing
Just drop it on 'em
You know it's politics, that made it sound like that
But it's all unified you see it's all Jesus

BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!

Man what's it all about?
Ain't about shit
N***a call me up talking about man it's on
Your n***as fucking wit my n***as an it's on
N***a what we fronting for?
If it ain't about this money
Ain't about this life an death n***a, shit
What's really going on?

[Verse 1: Too $hort]
Jumped all in a n***a's face front him on the spot
Don't cross the game unless ya wanna get shot
But who made the rules, do you recall?
Who's the judge when it comes to this street law?
Is it me? You? Or is it my crew?
My n***as get down, your n***as do too
Motherfuckers try to tell me don't fuck my life
Cause ain't nuthin' nice, ya gotta pay the price
You know them dudes, walking in them same shoes
It's brand new to you, but the game is used
I got it from them old n***as, they so cool
Now we just roll through, all the hoes know who
Ballin' in town, don't front, it's too little
Fake ass n***as get punked for your vittles
So what's it all about? Think about it later
To all you real gangsters, and all you perpetrators
[Chorus x2: Harm]
You've got me funkin' (funkin')
Over nuthin' man (funkin mayne)
Why ya wanna funk with me?

(N***as funk over shit!)
(Speak on it boy!)

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]
Uh
Sometimes you step in some shit you can't get out of
N***as who talk hella shit is who I'm quick to sock the shit out of
Sniff powder, with all your hoes off my door
Got em froze like Poconos, you're spendin all your dough
On the average-ass, stanky ass, run a gank-ass
Fuck everybody fast, just an Oakland-ass hoe
Now I know why n***as wanna knock you out like Glass Joe
All that playa hatin' shit ain't asked for
You must got problems wit n***as makin they cash flow
You gaffled your motherfucking youngsters
So go with your old ass flow, I gots to have jaw-jacked hoe
Cuz some of n***as wonder why us playas do this
On the under, caught up in some shit I didn't have nuthin to do with
The truth is, you know my funk is through [censored]
So ride for a n***a if that n***a ain't gonna do shit
You wanna be ass pimp
Getting your ass whipped is like an every year event, bitch
Dig it
[Chorus 2x]

[Verse 3: Numskull]
I'm too motherfuckin much for myself
So funkin' with n***as close to home is somethin' else
If you ain't gonna blow a n***a head off, then that's the end it
Concentrate on makin' mail and start spendin
Now this is where my do it for myself begins
Cause in '97 I ain't makin no new mutha fuckin friends
Now I got no enemies, I hold no grudges
From now on I'm overseeing my own budget (For real!)
We all did our dirt n***a, but now that's all forgiven
Chris, you my n***a til the ending, and
I started wit Dru (me too!) I started with Yuk (Smoke-A-Lot)
You're all hangin with me, so I gives a fuck
Nummy-Num gone go ahead and drink his self to death
N***a you wanna chop it up wit me, go through death yourself
I ain't tryin to hear nuthin', instead of throwin away skrillion, n***a
I'd rather be fuckin, uh

[Chorus 2x]

[Verse 4: Too $hort]
I signed my name on the dotted line, n***as know I did it first
But when you first, you know you get it worse
I suck the game up, I try to pass it on
N***as from the Bay, gettin' they cash on
From Frisco, to Vallejo
To the Big O, fuck that yayo
Hundred thousand units make a n***a half a million dollars
If you sittin' on a grip, I have to holla at you later
You can get rich in a minute
Two words: Distribution, Independent
Make an accapella you can hear every word
I spit this game you never ever heard
You know how you be quick to pop n***as
These record companies be quick to rob n***as
I say "$hort Dogg" and now they pay me
Don't pay these youngsters and watch 'em get crazy
[Chorus 4x]

[Outro: Too $hort]
Fuck around and run up in your shit
Yeah, that's the new thing going baby
We runnin' up in record companies
Writin' our own motherfucking checks
Sign on the dotted line n***a
What you really gettin'? What's really going on?
Watch out
N***as in the town about to unite
We going nationwide
Oakland style, bitch!
Oh you really thought that wasn't gonna happen?
Shit
Come on now