I-15 (bonus cut)

Oh yeah, uh, yo, let's go
Real smooth, 9:15
It's going down
Where we goin'?
We gonna win all the money

Two boys in the hood, number one with the bullet
Rap over rock star beats that rock mullets
Nothing in life but to be legit

Jump up in Camaros bumpin' Kiss and shit
I'm old school like black t-shirts and tour dates
They dig electric guitars, we diggin' through the crates
I make the type of music that your mom probably hates

Cussin' for no reason, leavin' food on my plate
Penetrate in a state, create a sound scape
Rock underground, never made a demo tape
Me and Double K player hate, man it feels great
On crews that belong singin' the blues on Ricki Lake
Now if it takes seven breaks chopped to make the beat
I'm not makin' my dinner 'til it's ready for the street
Complete, usin' my tools, I rock in grade school
Sittin' while I rhyme while my music's most cools
You know the fools makin' the rules up in the game

People under the stairs remember the name
The next step, Question and the O.S.T
Los Angelino people makin' history

While other crews pleadin' to P.U. to please stop
Me and Double chillin' like truckers at rest stops
While other crews are strugglin', tryin' to be the top
It's me and Double chillin' like truckers at rest stops

Ayy, rhymes and bass lines got the Dub feelin' nice
Your album to me was like a gang of beer with no ice
Niggas be tough up on the microphone, I wish y'all'd leave it alone
Let me slide through the back door, just get it on my own
See, I set up shop sorta like a lemonade stand
Picture me smokin', servin' black dudes with just one hand
Makin' it simple for all the party people to bump

If the beat was from the South, yo, all the shit would be crunk
We Los Angeles stylin', too wildin' for my own good
Y'all used to claimin' neighborhoods, see, mine I'm takin'
Cross borders without fakin', forsakin' niggas who front
Just watch you bitch, moan and complain while I smoke on this blunt
Dumpin' the ashes on your new shoes, steady givin' the blues
'Cause I be creepin' when you're havin' sex or watchin' the news
Don't get surprised, my man, you one of them live guys
You said it couldn't happen, Double K don't be rappin'
Writin' rhymes is like love letters, I put my heart in it

This game, I'm gonna win it, the fame, I'm gonna get it
By any means necessary, I'm gainin' my props
I keep my beats inside a cage, yeah, the son of a twelve gauge

Fully loaded, ready to go, Saturday night pro
With the hardcore liquor in my cup to make it sicker
Even when I slur my words, the jam still tight
And even when I'm mobbin' too hard, my sack's just right
I'm sendin' shouts to Rosebud, Bishop Don and my crew
We out like Pro Wings, yo, that's one, what you gonna do?

Nah, it's gonna keep drivin', man
We're gonna keep drivin' here
Just keep it goin', we'll get there, don't worry about it
We got Cal Green in the back seat, he's knocked out
Motherfucker
We got Billy Wooten in the back there

We're gonna be there, man
And uh
We're gonna have a little bit of fun
Man, you sure we gonna hit Las Vegas on this road?
Yeah, just keep goin', keep goin'
We got a place for that
Yeah

Blackjack, we gon' win all the money

We'll go to the folks, go in there and win some money, right?
Yeah
It's a rest stop, man, we'll stop and have a smoke
Yeah, smoke somethin'
Smoke somethin', man
Yeah
Stretch our legs
We got a little bit of vodka in the back

Wino style, Wino style
We gon' win all the money