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The hardest thing for me to doIs to get you, to know me, within sixteen barsThat's the hardest thingWho is K. Dot? A young nigga from ComptonOn the curb writing raps next to a gun shotOn the corners where the gangsters and the killers dwellThe fraudulent tender scars that get unveiledEveryone I knew was either crip or piruCousins in elementary, relatives in high schoolWith that being said, each one of their rivalsWas aiming something at my head, I needed survivalGot jumped, got jacked, shot at, shot backAnd I don't even push a line, I'm just tryna push these rhymesIn the midst of staying neutral and discreteMy momma said you're judged by the company you keepBut what you can consider, that if it goes downThey'll kill you if you kill me, it gets deep niggaSo if you ask what I'm doingI'm tryna duck the influence of my city that's blue-and, real talk, and[Chorus]This is why they fuck with me (real talk nigga, believe it)This is why they fuck with me (do what I do, y'know?)I'm no gangster, no killer, I'm just your average Joe (know that)But one thing you should consider, I'm the realest you knowSongtexteI was walking from CentennialWhen an unidentified vehicle rolled up, and I was like hol' upWhere you from? "I don't bang"Where you stay? "Westside", that's a piru gang to be exactWell aware they had blue across they hatDropped backpack and ran inside of the cul-de-sacShots rang out, hoping to God I wasn't wetCrossed to cross Rosecrans and ran inside of the yetChirped the homies on the I-95, they said they already knewWhat happened, and meet 'em outside the garageNever seen that many guns in my lifeI was paranoid like a fiend in the night, but needed revengeGrabbed the nine-ball, opened up the door, then got inSomebody said fall back, we gon' make these niggas sufferYou my brother like a frat, and that's just to remind youThought about that so long I had failed my finals, fuck, but[Chorus]I don't do black music, I don't do white musicI do everyday life musicGive 'em cuts like a nigga pierced a knife through itYou say you through, but I've been through it, now that's coldAnd this is for my county building childrenIn Hub City on hubcaps, no power-steeringI use perseverance in this mad cityWhere the niggas drink Remy and hold semis for cutthroatsBernie Mac died, it's no jokeDon't ask why if you don't know about these killers and thievesSeven grams of weed, you smoke that, but I'm high off lifeI could fall out the sky like twiceAnd land in the land of the AKsAnd the minivans where the fan never onCause it's hotter than a lunatic's underarms in a straitjacketIn other words, we get it cracking, but I keep it cool, y'know?[Chorus]So there you have itBut I'mma leave you with thisAn O.G. once told meA real gangster is either dead or in jailOr behind the scenes getting real moneyI'm gone Aus Songtexte Mania