Текст песни: Seagram. Reality Check. It Don't Stop.

(feat. Gangsta P)

[Seagram]
Click, click, boom
On your mothafuckin' ass, punk
Its that nigga name Seag bringin' funk
Straight from the O to the A to the K to the L to the A to N to the D
(Bitch!)
S.N.V. is a hood that I roll through
Talkin' that punk shit, nigga, I told you
You cant fuck with the real loc gee
You niggaz dont know me
I fucked your dead homie
And I can give a fuck about the shit that you stress
I'm handlin' more mail than you B.S.
So you can jump up
And pump up your mothafuckin' Reeboks
I cant be faded not even with some Clorex
I'm funky like sweat socks
Funky like stink
Cock a hundred dee on that deal block
When you see me in the Benz
Jealous niggaz dont be talkin'
I aint sidin' on you, tricks
I'm just flossin'
So be aware of the late nite stranger
With 49 in the clip and one in the chamber...

[Gangsta P]
Mothafuckas want the rocks? Well, I got'em
Steppin' on the block
And never leave home without'em
Slangin' on the mothafuckin' Seminary street
Now I'm known to be a gee cause the nigga's 23
Step broke and get broke off some proper
My lil homie Ken
Pulled a trigga of a Chopper, nigga
Lets get ghost in the bucket
Cock the steel, fuck the police
Cause the niggaz is real
Comin' from the mothafuckin' sixties
Known to pull a trigga
Till the clip's on empty
Stranded in the jungles of the East Oaktown
Come through but i still slang my dope a pro
Ice creams, so wont you come and get it?
Niggaz try to jack get sprayed and be finished
Lil Gangsta P, S.N.V.
Till I die, layin' dead six feet deep...

[Seagram]
4-deep in the bucket
Rollin' with some convicts, East Side lunatics
Doin' shit, stack some dough, slap a hoe
Or jack a foe with my MAC-1-0
Straight from Oakland Cali
Slangin' birds in the alley
High performances on rallies
Fuck the police precint
And a kitchen sink
They try to make us stink
I got killa instinct
They got me heated
So they gettin' treated
With this medication
AK's sprayin' with no hesitation
Aint no love for them mothafuckin' rednecks
Cause in the ghetto shootin' cops is a re-flex
As we swing low in the Cheriot
Shoot the cop, take the gat, then bury it
Caught up in the ways of the East Side
Aint no peace ride, the decease ride...