You Don't Understand Remix E

Kurupt. now listening to Smooth Radio. Hard Head was hatin'. What we doin'? What we doin'? How we goin'? Ride, ride. You know the state, you can find it on The map. I represent my city in my fitted Ball cap. I'm hood rich, you don't wanna see Me when I'm broke. 'Cause I'm takin' every dollar 'til I'm richer than the Pope. The world make you wonder how we all goin' Under. So I'm showin' no mercy until these Cocksuckers hurt me. This neighborhood livin' got me driven like a Nova. Movin' so fast, police sayin', "Pull the fuck over." These Cali streets taught everybody burn. Every lesson learned where everything turned out for The worst. I wake up every day sayin', "Will I wake again?" Every now and then, Altercation with men. Fuck a friend, I rock the road with my Enemy. That's the truth, I can show you how Cali be. My bullet wounds show you how I Ride for these bricks. And these automatic weapons I got, they don't quit. They call me Hard Head for a reason. I represent the new West until I'm not breathin'. Niggas come out, shells spinnin', nobody's leavin'. Patter-patter, heavy brain matter. Step into this motherfucker and push 'em off the Ladder. As I dive to top, duffle bags drop. The homies start separatin' the busters from the Squad. Everybody stop, everybody drop. The clown niggas get surround, the busters get Mussed. Passes get revoked, super-duper, Super soaked. I'm a monster by my nature, Dana's in a super sport. Scotty Relly live forever, Makaveli with my celly. Classic like Kurupt and Daz, DJ Quik and Donzelli. Got the bitches, Fazarelli, it ain't shit that you Can tell me. Thump in my hood, Stacy Adams, I'm an animal. Get your hood sprayed and can Play like ukuleles. More stripes than a zebra or a tiger, I'm a felon. With a plot, with a plan. With a semi-auto heater in my hand. With a knot and Some grams. This the way of life, You don't understand. With a plot and a plan. With a semi-automatic in my hand. With a knot and some grams. This the way of life, you don't understand, Nigga. You don't understand. You don't understand. Nina in my hand. You don't understand. Nigga, you don't understand. See, I pull up, it's Lookin' like a problem, nigga. See, I pull up, it's lookin' like a problem, Nigga. I tell 'em we can get it lockin' On my mama, nigga. Nigga, you ain't 'bout that life. And when I see you, young nigga, it's on Sight. See, I'm racked up, ridin' with the tool On me. If a nigga get to trippin' then I'm bustin' 'til the clip gone. On me, you don't wanna act out. Stop trippin' 'fore my young niggas turn this bitch Out. On the 'burbs, they don't really want a Problem, nigga. See, it's 'burbs niggas movin', That's a fuckin' problem, nigga. On the 'burbs, they don't really want a problem, Nigga. See, it's 'burbs niggas movin', that's a Fuckin' problem, nigga, uh.