ᴘ ɪ ᴇ ᴄ ᴇ

[Intro, High-volume soul sample loop: "Are you gangsta, mister?", subtle minimalist wah-wah guitar accents] [Verse 1, Vocals Layered, Prominent Soul Loop: "Are you gangsta, mister?", Background: occasional subdued wah-wah guitar licks, Lead: lazy conversational female rap street monologue deadpan delivery over-articulated consonants] Every corner got a king... thinking he's the main event, chest out, gold teeth... fifty dollars to his name — a hundred percent. Crackhead at the bodega told me I smell — smell nice, bro you smell like bail money... bail money — take your own advice. Dude in the lobby... leaning like he pays the rent, eyes on my ass like... that's where his deposit went. Guy at the gas station won't let me pump in — pump in peace, "smile for me baby"... bro I'll SMILE for the police. Drunk dude on the corner... reached like he knew my name, I slipped him like a pothole... we are not the same. Parked up... engine running... saw him in the glass, he thought I didn't notice — he was moving way too fast. I been ducking... dodging... crossing every street, holding keys like Wolverine... in the winter heat. Nah... ...I'm done pretending that the world is sweet, time to go shopping — for a different kind of treat. [Chorus, Single Vocals, Lead: spoken word chant dominant lazy arrogant tone, Instrumental: Heavy and confident, Background: subtle wah-wah quacks, Soul sample: Prominent] Are you gangsta, mister? (gangsta?) — Cute. — now watch your stuff. Five foot two, one clutch — that's enough to bluff. Gotta get myself a piece, tired of playing nice, ask me one more time — and I won't ask you twice. [Verse 2, Vocals Layered, Prominent Soul Loop: "Are you gangsta, mister?", Background: occasional subdued wah-wah guitar licks, Lead: bored elegance monotone street precision clinical dry tone lazy monologue] Walked into the store... like I'm buying a bag, "show me something pretty... with a little bit of drag." Lady at the counter said... "you want it light or heavy?" I said "girl, surprise me"... she said "this one is deadly." Pink grip... black barrel — outfit of the year, fits right in the clutch... disappears like a tear. Now I'm back on the block... same street... same night, same crackhead at the bodega — but the vibe ain't right. He looked at my face... then he looked at my bag, something in my energy... made his shoulders sag. Lobby dude is gone... gas station man says "ma'am," ain't nobody stepping up... to ask me who I am. That drunk guy from the corner... doesn't even look my way, funny how a little steel... fixes up a regular day. Whole street empty... ... ...shit. I scared 'em off too — too fast. ...damn — now I kinda miss the noise. (laughing) [Instrumental Break, Confident heavy boom-bap, Soul sample "Are you gangsta, mister?" prominent, Sparse minimalist wah-wah guitar accents] [Chorus, Single Vocals, Lead: spoken word chant dominant lazy swagger, Instrumental: Heavy confident and loud] Are you gangsta, mister? (gangsta?) — Cute. — now watch your stuff. Five foot two, one clutch — that's enough to bluff. Gotta get myself a piece, tired of playing nice, ask me one more time — and I won't ask you twice. [Chorus, Lead: spoken word chant final cold dismissal arrogant energy, Soul sample: Constant high-volume loop, Subtle background wah-wah accents] Are you gangsta, mister? (gangsta?) — Cute. — now watch your stuff. Five foot two, one clutch — that's enough to bluff. Gotta get myself a piece, tired of playing nice, ask me one more time — and I won't ask you twice. [End]