They don't let the
beast out
the motherfuckin' cage, homie
You know what?
As long as I got this freedom of speech
I'ma keep saying whatever the
fuck I wanna say
Keep on speaking
whatever the fuck's on my mind
Dropping these rhymes
whenever the fuck I want
Yeah, yeah, keep the shit movin',
stop pretendin'
Comin' straight from the belly
of the underground,
they lovin' the sound, the skin is brown
Plus I've been around
dedicatin' this one
to the motherfuckin' gangbangers
No ride scrapers, homies usin',
makin' paper,
catch me holdin' Cali down
Just like the Dodgers and the Lakers,
this is death before the start
I'm about to go to Vegas,
spend a couple G's in the night
Fuck it cause I made it to the
point of no return
Money, fuck it, I'ma burn that,
that's it, fuck the past
Full speed ahead, won't turn back,
top notch when the shit drops
Keep the shit jumpin',
streets bouncin' like hopscotch
Roppers poppin' off at the mouth,
fuck on pop shots
West coast, pop block, that's it
cause we pop blocks, that's it
It's Mr. Criminal comin' with
shit for the blue
Representin' my raza,
give it a fuck about what you bitches do
And that's a motherfuckin' fact, homie
I've been ten years deep
in this motherfuckin' gang
This says a lot
Out here, every single motherfuck
in' gear on the road
Every single motherfuckin' gear
droppin' two, three,
four albums back to back
Who's got endurance like that?
Who's can't run with this clique?
Right here in Southern California,
three strikes, you're out
Vodka's quick to bust,
so you best to watch your mouth
Don't make a wrong turn,
suggest you watch your route
Food's quick to check,
so you best to watch your house
Enemies talkin' madness
till we knock them out
Best to pray you don't get caught up
when them locks come out
Load of clits, hollow tits,
that's what I'm talkin' bout
Plan, plot, strategize
until we box them out
That's it,
we known as California savages
Sicker than the average,
doin' damage, livin' glamorous
Made a couple moves,
understand why haters mad at us
Talkin' like they wanna give it to em
cause I had enough
A decade deep in the game,
see them albums add em up
What I owe to the streets,
now that's the antwoord
Still duckin' hood,
I was tryin' not to feel them handcuffs
Still doin' shows worldwide,
keep their hands up
That's how we do it,
we bringin' the shit
Like I said, ha,
I'm chasin' that motherfuckin' bread
It's 2010, high power soldiers
till the motherfuckin' wheels fall off
As a matter of fact,
them motherfuckers just got upgraded
Ha ha ha, yeah
So don't expect it anytime soon
That's it, yeah
Now uh, couple things
I've been noticing
Who's comin' real sloppy
Talkin' bout Chicano rap,
but they ain't representin' shit
for the West Coast
Homie, you gotta spit like this
I get work at a stake like a freight truck
Talkin' shit'll get you battered,
boots is scraped up
The economy is fucked,
that's to get your back up
Rockers turnin' batter,
get your breast,
we'll get your cake up
Smokin' blunts on my
Tigo Bank in Jamaica
Then I fly to Europe
smokin' weed, sippin' syrup
Then off to Japan, drinkin' sake,
spinnin' grass
But no matter where I travel,
take it back to the Southland
Southern side,
riders still fuckin' up the Southskin
Keep the crowd bouncin'
while you cruisin' in a down spin
Ha ha, yeah, I got accounts man,
high power soldier worldwide
It's a criminal steady clan, I'm like
Ha ha ha ha ha,
this shit is funny to me, yeah
I see these motherfuckers
get together,
standing all hard on
the motherfucking covers
We about to fall apart quick
Man, trying to dip,
trying to come together,
make all these motherfucking shit
Come on homie 2010,
that's a death before the sun
You know what, I ain't going nowhere,
that's it
It's this 45 on me,
we'll make sure I got a short recess
Mr. Criminal 
