Call It Gangster

I was so glad, when they said unto me

Let us go into the house, of the gangsters [Chorus: Petey Pablo]

If you don't call this gangster,

I don't know what a gangster is

If you don't call this gangster, you don't know what gangster is

Said it's one thing to be real, but real ain't all a gangster is

If you don't call this gangster, you don't know what gangster is

I know [Petey Pablo:]

I was so glad...

I only smoke with the folks that came in when

I came in

I don't smoke with bitches cause

I don't know where they mouth been

Dawg I'm a celebrity,

I got fans,

I don't need friends

I don't need security, cause they ain't checked me when

I came in

All that you impressed with, is what

I already did

The life you choose to emulate, that's the life

I live Dream house, dream car, quarter past that

That money that you makin, was my champagne tab

Dawg, that's yo' girl?

Be cool, relax

I just need her tonight, call the phone, you can get her back

You gon' ball then ball, you gon' mack then mack

Your mouth sayin one thang, but your action don't say that

You told me all aboutcha, and

I ain't even asked

Look at ya, nervous, jittery, can't stare me in the eyes can ya?

Real recognize real, you can't deceive a gangster

Short Dawg,

Petey Pab', what was y'all thankin? [Chorus] [Too $hort:]

I know you wanna live the good life

New car, new house, what it look like?

You'll never see it, tryin to be somethin that you're not

You runnin to the car cause you don't wanna get shot

But at the bar you was hard

Ain't even no straps in your car, you better call the law

They got guns, you got a cell phone

Do some gangster shit, and get the hell on ...

You talked all that shit

But a bunch of ass-whuppins, that's all y'all get

Actin tough in the club

You found out you was fuckin with some thugs; put them hands on ya

So fast you ain't know what happened

Outside seen 'em ridin in a fo' do' cabin

Tryin to kill you, this shit is real fool

You won't survive in the streets if you don't know the rules [Chorus] [Dolla Will:]

Uhh; Black

Continental, suicide golds

Gators hit the flo',

I ain't payin at the do'

While you fly outside, waitin for the guest list

And to get frisked, it's niggaz like me creepin with heat

That'll burn ya crisp

I'm at some work, you would open your mouth to kiss

Why you at the bar, roused off

Cris' No longer courageless, grabbin hoes by the wrist

Chose one, mix wasn't hit, so you wet her clothes

And said B

ITCH - put it on thick, like

Lonzo in "Training Day"

Not knowin she with a clique, that's aimin at your face

Soon as they get word, hope your friends don't desert

And valet got your

Benz parked next to the curb

You ain't a gangster,

L7 Quick to bail out, like a nigga in jail stressin

A lesson to be learnt, bout what a gangster is

Not only do we roll deep, so do a gangsteress [Chorus]