| Song | Streets of Oakland |
| Artist | Ant Banks |
| Album | The Best Of Ant Banks |
| 作词 : Banks, Gooden, Riley | |
| (Ant Banks) | |
| Yeah, to the break of dawn, you know? Let's do this | |
| Chorus: | |
| Niggas in Oakland all day long | |
| Be pimping these hoes from dusk til dawn | |
| Making cash real fast and you know it's on | |
| Hanging on the streets of Oakland | |
| All we do is smoke that weed | |
| And drink brew on the ave til we get keyed | |
| And a little bit of head is all we need | |
| Hanging on the streets of Oakland | |
| (Ant Banks) | |
| Welcome to the danger zone, where the niggas don't play that | |
| Every man for self, the rule is to stay strapped | |
| Cause rat packers try to jack that ass | |
| From the jealousy that's built in the streets when you stack cash | |
| And they'll blast, hoping they can get get it | |
| Punk, so if you got it, you best to get with it | |
| Or quit it, cause niggas be flipping over dope and | |
| Your friends might get you if you're slipping in Oakland | |
| Yeah, so don't play no punk-ass nigga close | |
| Cause they'll mash on your cash and get ghost | |
| And don't say Ant Banks didn't warn ya | |
| About the loced-ass gangstas killing in California | |
| That's where I'm from, nigga, rolling in my G-ride | |
| Hey, you gonna see me slide when I'm on the Eastside | |
| Making all my fucking gitnotes | |
| Making sure my gat straight smitnokes, smobbing with my fitnokes | |
| That's all we doing is the town is seeing bitches clowning | |
| Kicking back getting high lounging | |
| It really doesn't matter what you do, yo chilling with your crew | |
| You're sipping on a brew, you're pimping bitches too | |
| And the shit don't bother me if that's how it's gotta be | |
| Then macking these hoes should be equality | |
| See, the game goes deep when you're rolling | |
| Hanging on the streets of Oakland | |
| Chorus | |
| Nighttime falls and everybody's perking | |
| No punks around so funks occurring | |
| But the sideshow's back and everybody's flossing | |
| In they ride trying to side and all the freaks are tossing | |
| And brother with bump, trunk of funk is knocking | |
| Candy paint on they ride keeps the bitches jocking | |
| Knowing you's a balling-ass nigga everybody hates | |
| Rolling in the town with a pound straight dropping weight | |
| Blowing up like dynamite | |
| Selling weed, yey, angel dust, hop, and China white | |
| Fuck it, you're making duckets, never riding buckets | |
| Playing punk bitches like puppets | |
| Yo, but there's a lot of fake counterfeit macks | |
| Playa hating on they homies trying to dry cat | |
| To look good for the hoes, man these niggas ain't joking | |
| Boy, you get that ass smoked in Oakland | |
| Chorus | |
| (Boots - spoken) | |
| Aw yeah, The Coup is up in here, and we be talking about the | |
| real. Motherfuckas know that we know, that they know, that we | |
| know the deal. Now the originality of our principality is that | |
| we don't play the pimp. But the reality of our locality, and | |
| you'll learn this gradually, is that motherfuckas do this shit | |
| to pay their rent. But here's a hint: how we gonna get it straight | |
| when we bent? Shit, see I ain't never had shit but my stripes | |
| and my game and my life, and all them's just hand downs from my | |
| grandaddy. Yeah, I'm living large kidding with Ant Banks, but I'm | |
| still hustling food stamps for my candy apple red Caddy. Alright... |
| zuò cí : Banks, Gooden, Riley | |
| Ant Banks | |
| Yeah, to the break of dawn, you know? Let' s do this | |
| Chorus: | |
| Niggas in Oakland all day long | |
| Be pimping these hoes from dusk til dawn | |
| Making cash real fast and you know it' s on | |
| Hanging on the streets of Oakland | |
| All we do is smoke that weed | |
| And drink brew on the ave til we get keyed | |
| And a little bit of head is all we need | |
| Hanging on the streets of Oakland | |
| Ant Banks | |
| Welcome to the danger zone, where the niggas don' t play that | |
| Every man for self, the rule is to stay strapped | |
| Cause rat packers try to jack that ass | |
| From the jealousy that' s built in the streets when you stack cash | |
| And they' ll blast, hoping they can get get it | |
| Punk, so if you got it, you best to get with it | |
| Or quit it, cause niggas be flipping over dope and | |
| Your friends might get you if you' re slipping in Oakland | |
| Yeah, so don' t play no punkass nigga close | |
| Cause they' ll mash on your cash and get ghost | |
| And don' t say Ant Banks didn' t warn ya | |
| About the locedass gangstas killing in California | |
| That' s where I' m from, nigga, rolling in my Gride | |
| Hey, you gonna see me slide when I' m on the Eastside | |
| Making all my fucking gitnotes | |
| Making sure my gat straight smitnokes, smobbing with my fitnokes | |
| That' s all we doing is the town is seeing bitches clowning | |
| Kicking back getting high lounging | |
| It really doesn' t matter what you do, yo chilling with your crew | |
| You' re sipping on a brew, you' re pimping bitches too | |
| And the shit don' t bother me if that' s how it' s gotta be | |
| Then macking these hoes should be equality | |
| See, the game goes deep when you' re rolling | |
| Hanging on the streets of Oakland | |
| Chorus | |
| Nighttime falls and everybody' s perking | |
| No punks around so funks occurring | |
| But the sideshow' s back and everybody' s flossing | |
| In they ride trying to side and all the freaks are tossing | |
| And brother with bump, trunk of funk is knocking | |
| Candy paint on they ride keeps the bitches jocking | |
| Knowing you' s a ballingass nigga everybody hates | |
| Rolling in the town with a pound straight dropping weight | |
| Blowing up like dynamite | |
| Selling weed, yey, angel dust, hop, and China white | |
| Fuck it, you' re making duckets, never riding buckets | |
| Playing punk bitches like puppets | |
| Yo, but there' s a lot of fake counterfeit macks | |
| Playa hating on they homies trying to dry cat | |
| To look good for the hoes, man these niggas ain' t joking | |
| Boy, you get that ass smoked in Oakland | |
| Chorus | |
| Boots spoken | |
| Aw yeah, The Coup is up in here, and we be talking about the | |
| real. Motherfuckas know that we know, that they know, that we | |
| know the deal. Now the originality of our principality is that | |
| we don' t play the pimp. But the reality of our locality, and | |
| you' ll learn this gradually, is that motherfuckas do this shit | |
| to pay their rent. But here' s a hint: how we gonna get it straight | |
| when we bent? Shit, see I ain' t never had shit but my stripes | |
| and my game and my life, and all them' s just hand downs from my | |
| grandaddy. Yeah, I' m living large kidding with Ant Banks, but I' m | |
| still hustling food stamps for my candy apple red Caddy. Alright... |