You pro?

Yeah, hell yeah. Know what I'm sayin'? Yeah...
Mister Buster, where the !@#$%^&* ya at?
Can't scrap a leg, so I know ya got your gat.
Your ♥♥♥♥ on hard, from ♥♥♥♥♥♥ your road dogs.
The hood you threw up with, !@#$%^&* you grew up with
Don't even respect your !@#$%^&*.
That's why it's time for the doctor to check your !@#$%^&*, !@#$%^&*.
Used to be my homie, used to be my ace.
Now I wanna slap the taste out your mouth,
Make you bow down to the row.
♥♥♥♥♥♥' me, now I'm ♥♥♥♥♥♥' you, little ho.
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide.
Let me ride, just another homicide.
Yeah it's me so I'mma talk on.
Stompin' on the 'Eazy'est streets that you can walk on.
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs.
And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc.
And pass the bud, and stay low-key,
B.G., 'cause you lost all your homie's love
Now call it what you want to.
You ♥♥♥♥♥♥ wit me, now it's a must that I !@#$%^&* wit you!

Yeah, that's what the !@#$%^&* I'm talkin about.
We have your ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ record company surrounded.
Put down the candy and let the little boy go...
You know what I'm sayin'? Punk !@#$%^&*...
**We want Eazy, we want Eazy**