Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

First, you get a lot of love, but it come with the hate

I just heard some fucked up shit the other day like

come on (Damn, uh)

I done gave niggas ways to make it shake

But I learned everything in this life you can't say (At all)

It's blood in the streets

a good time to save (A good time to)

Good time to bond, a good time to change (Numbers)

Adjust to the game, that don't make a nigga fake

Real niggas make it home and make sure they

fam' straight (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Times got tricky, mind didn't change (My mind)

Long drive alonе, did it for the pape' (Numbers)

Did it out of dеsperation, did it for the chase

Made it out safe, now every day, I pray

'Cause I really understand that this

life shit'll break you (For real)

Street shit just a situation that'll take you (Take you)

Away from your family (Your family)

Away from that pape' (That pape')

Away from yourself (Yourself)

Now here come depression

I fuck with LA like I fuck with the Bay

I got spots in both, hand, wops and K's (Uh)

Porsche and a valet (Uh) , order me a filet

Make a million with Game

then pavé the chain (Damn, life is great)

Ayy, welcome to the cookout

All the gangsters, the hustlers and the crooks out

Homies in the front, shit, somebody gotta look out

While I'm in the back with my brains getting took out

Ayy, gold on the grill

Welcome to a place where all the hoes wanna chill

Yeah, the soundtrack to some real shit

Money falling out the sky, yeah, we real rich

Pulling up in old-school Benzes

Hopping out G-Wagons on twenty inches

Oh, and did I mention?

All this 'cause we was dreamin' in the trenches

Everything golden like the state

Whole lot of love, fuck out of here with that hate

To live and die in LA, but my second home is the Bay

Larry June before his time, like we did this in May

Now shoo fly, go away

Two classic-ass niggas, homie, let us be great

While breakfast getting served on preheated plates

Biggie in the background, cheese, eggs and Welch's grape

Out in Mykonos, let's make a toast, the great escape

You know you made it when you can't

understand what the waiter say

Yadadamean?

Like fuck what a hater say

What's a knockoff Air Force One to a Bathing Ape?

Gorilla shit, like when 50 dropped "Back Down"

Nigga, we came too far to turn back now

And what that nigga Pac say? Oakland to Sac Town

The Bay Area and back down, give me love

Ayy, welcome to the cookout

All the gangsters, hustlers and the crooks out

Homies in the front, shit, somebody gotta look out

While I'm in the back, chopping game with my gold out

Ayy, gold on the grill

Welcome to a place where all the

hoes wanna chill (Hoes wanna chill)

Uh, the soundtrack to some real shit

Money falling out the sky, yeah, we real rich (Real rich)

Pulling up in old-school Benzes

Hopping out G-Wagons on twenty inches

Oh, and did I mention?

All of this, but we got it out the trenches