Jack U. Back (So U Wanna Be A Gangsta) Songtext

(So you wanna be a gangsta) --> Too $hort Nah like no gangsta, nah like no gangsta, come again Nah like no gangsta, nah like no gangsta, follow me Nah like no gangsta, nah like no gangsta, because When I was a youth, just a little youngster Gangsta killed mi mother and killed mi father They kill my sister and kill mi brother Bo! bo! and them get shot down Bo! bo! and them get shot down Never given a chance to enhance And advance to the mic stand Because of the craft and the path of a state pen The thought of if white being black is a syllable Beginning at birth, yeah, I begin at the physical The scenery's grim, fakes float like phlegm I keep the G to myself, made a vow, no friends Cause people you trust, all lies and propaganda Slick man slander, talk like Sandra ( *to the beat of Kris Kross' 'Jump'* ) Fake one, wanna-be, clocked, your dead ass knocked Shell-shocked, two shots, heart'll be your next stop Weak mouth leak out, smack what you breathe out Now whose fault when it's hard, get your knees down You cheat, got a new trick cause that's what you do When you're in jail zero got more stuff than you do You wail like a ( ? ) and echo the vicinity Can't handle the time cause the judge gave you infinity Life, that's what you get for your everyday hustle Ropes and a handyman couldn't pull your luck up Wanna be the trigger figure, critter with the Tec Banned for tryin to ( ? ) your mom's neck You couldn't get a ( ? ) for that stuff you yell out Killin your own just to make bones, now that's a sell out But who's the bigger pussy, just like a panther I'm just lettin you know - so you wanna be a gangsta ( *to the beat of Cypress Hill's 'Hand on the Pump'* ) Wanna-be gees try to be what they can't be Cause what you can't be you try to be cause you'se the wanna-be So play the back like a fallback, in the back But way back before I break your muthafuckin back And my foot off in your ass if you don't step off Cause when I go off I sound like a sawed-off So stop actin like you're packin a Mac ( ? ) And gangsta rap ain't what's happenin And that means you and you, know what you can do If you don't like what I'm sayin, but in the meanwhile fuck you I'm ( ? ) so save the killer talk and just walk Before I walk all over your ass just like a sidewalk You ain't got nothin comin but a bad break So why try, you fry, that's a big mistake On your behalf I told you you couldn't last But the thought that I was trickin, now guess who gets the last laugh ( *to the beat of Ice Cube's 'My Summer Vacation'* ) 8 down brothers on a prison tip You wanna be a gangsta just swingin the clip You come to Rahway, you be suckin my dick After a little whille I make you my bitch I'm not a [edited] and I don't like ( ? ) While you're sittin in a leather chair gettin your ass fired There goes the prison, there goes the prison ( *to the beat of ( ? )* ) Niggas that life to riff but don't really have the gift I come across because my style'll switch swift Criminal background, I can go underground Pound for pound every lyric I throw down Cause this is a showdown, suckers I mow down They rush like ( ? ) when I go ( ? ) One by one, come all or plenty Cause when I do a show, boy, I kill many Weak punk rappers, camouflagin fakes I'll down a sucker and I won't be late Come back and translate the jams I elevate Now watch me operate, see how I demonstrate? To all deceivers a make-believer Your falsing trickery is no longer mystery And if you want bitchery, and if you want bickery And if you want victory, just try to get with me To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) To be an O.G. (you had to be an O.G.) ( *to the beat of the Geto Boys' 'Mind Playing Tricks on Me'* ) I'm the M-a-x-w-el-l Swiftmaster, sucker, now that spells Maxwell And what I kick here ain't just another fairytale I wrote this shit so others wouldn't have to Go through the things that Max had to I know a many of gangsters on the street Some in a jail cell, the others six feet deep ( *to the beat of King Tee's 'Played Like a Piano'* ) Holdin your breath when I mess with the mess rap You coulnd't get jack but a backsmack, none cap Flackin that flack while there's ( ? ) talk bull Comin to battle with a rattle, havin no pull ( ? ) and boot-lickin, kickin your bullshittin Jack in a box ( ? ) your face-splittin Servin up lumps to your ( ? ) you wanna ( ? ) Rather duck ( ? ) to get ( ? ) you duck none Mister blister, dismiss, kiss the Head on my nine, not a crime to kill a bigger nigga Critter-digger, trigger mouldin your head figure Little bum you're ( ? ), I leave that ass rid of Asshole, Lord knows what I wrote ( ? ) Kick one lifetime and it's time to hold More grounds than the bounds of a highway Cause I say it my way, ah fuck it in Rahway