One, two, three and to the four / ---------- and --------- is at the door / Ready to make an entrance, so back on up / (‘Cause you know we’re about to rip shit up) / Give me the microphone first so I can bust, like a bubble / Compton and Long Beach together / Now you know you’re in trouble / Ain’t nothing but a G thang, baby / Two loc’ed out niggas, so we’re crazy / Death Row is the label that pays me / Unfadeable, so please don’t try to fade this (Hell yeah) / But um, back to the lecture at hand / Perfection is perfected, so I’ma let ’em understand / From a young G’s perspective / And before me dig out a b**** I have to find a contraceptive / You never know, she could be earning her man / And learning her man, and at the same time burning her man / Now, you know I ain’t with that shit, Lieutenant / Ain’t no p**** good enough to get burnt while I’m up in it / And that’s realer than Real-Deal Holyfield / And now you h****** and h*** know how I feel / Well, if it’s good enough to get broke off a proper chunk / I’ll take a small piece of some of that funky stuff