[Intro]
[Richie Rich] Gone off a zone
[Casual] Uh-huh
[RR] Rich Rich
[Casual] Brought Got ‘em all out for this one
[Too $hort] Yeah, that’s right
(“Oaktown”)
[T$] Up in this muthafucka, bitch
[Casual] E-Mac, give ‘em a bar, boy

[Verse 1: E-Mac]
I’m from Oakland, boy; I thought I told ya, boy
We ride doors open, smokin’, boy
Dreadlocks flooded the block, we all look similar
Just separated by paper and who rims is bigger
Cash, my n***a
Learned game, spit it, E-Mac, I come wit’ it
It’s the home of the grapes, whistle tips on scrapes—ya get it
Take trips outta state with the weight and get it
We pay low price on the block, stay wit’ it
It’s Oakland, daddy; spinner thangs hold the Caddy
My jewel pieces keep the cops mad at me
My generation, we ain’t go no sense
We keep them behind tints, smokin’ out your residence
It’s the home of the riders, the Raiders, you know the city of $hort
Number one pay dock in the loaf, I’m reppin’ the O
(“Oaktown”)

[Interlude: Too $hort]
Eastside, Westside, Northside, Oakland, California

[Verse 2: Too $hort]
I’m from Cokeland but I never sold cocaine
I used to sell Coca-Cola at the Oakland A’s games
To future kingpins and rap stars, some young hustlers
We from the O—where you from, muthafucka?
Ain’t no doubt you get shot in The Town
Ran your mouth and n***as ‘bout to get down
Everybody knows how we be on that shit
You bring her to The Town—yeah, we want yo’ bitch
Town n***as hella foul but we laced with knowledge
Can’t get out the streets and didn’t make it to college
Got a chromed-out Harley and I’m making some dollars
When you see me hit the corner, I be making it holler
‘Cause I love where I’m from, it’s where the pimps was raised
The Super Bowl Raiders and the Championship A’s
Independent labels, Bay Area funk
My name is Too $hort, tell ‘em where I’m from

[Verse 3: Casual]
Yeah, Oaktown, Eastside, flame-spittin’ youngster
Cats consider my rap street-tied
Amongst the ranks from gangstas, bustas to bosses
Y’all go stupid but walk the streets cautious
And spit it like he flawless, rhyme lawless
Town Business, and if you down with this baller, bang out
And hang out of their Impalas
See, Cash smoke grapes all day and make dollars
It’s nothin’ family, catch me in something candy
From the North Pole to Sobrante, dawg, annually
I mess with cats that puts The Town on the map for rap
We give it to ya like, blap-da-dap-da-dap
Only Ave killers live and never die
Yeah, that’s Oakland, fam, no need to tell ‘em why I stay hella high
Just chillin’ in my ghetto, gone
On the block posted up on my Metro phone, ‘cause this…
[Chorus: Casual]
(“Oaktown”)
Ya’mean? That’s what I tell ‘em when they ask, “Where you from?”
(“Oaktown”)
In the dirty, they gotta love us; you’re dirty, you gotta love us
This (“Oaktown”)
Pimps from CHI to NY spit game that came from (“Oaktown”)
Nah’mean, it’s Town Business
(Cash, let me holler at ‘em for a second, mayne) Get at ‘em

[Verse 4: G-Stack]
My block got knockas, got hop, got rocks
Goes hoes, got reefer, got yours, get props
Plus they got Stack backin’ ‘em; I may not be platinum
But hoes or foes get both served with a Magnum
I’m all about my cash, though at the top of the year
Homicide, they had your boy; because of Cash, I’m here
That’s why they feel me when they pop in the disc
I’m getting money while y’all just rappin’ funny, get smacked up like a bitch
I’m a Ave n***a, sav n***as keepin’ me low
See, I don’t drink and I don’t smoke, but I stay reppin’ the O
You get the duck sick, duck quick, buck if you try
I am the Ville, born and raised, that’s where I’ll probably die
Right here in Oakland

[Verse 5: Richie Rich]
I’m gone off a zone, dub shot of Patron
Looking for something to put these 28’s on
Bitches think I’m thee man, n***as think I’m ki man
Mad at the fact that I do move sack
Look, the rims on my chopper show what tone I’m on
Better hurr’ up, ‘fore them zones be gone
Like the old Jordans—soon as they in, they out
N***as gone off that purple’s what my town be ‘bout
You’ll get bucked quick, caught after the curfew
These n***as’ll murk you, these bitches’ll hurt you
My town’s shitty, but I love its dirty drawers
We ain’t even got no mall and we still gon’ ball
N***as Harley’d out, plus Bob Marley’d out
Dreads and T-shirts, looking for thee purp
Coming through my city, n***a, bring you a pistol
That’s coming from Dub, Town Business official
[Chorus: Casual]
(“Oaktown”)
Ya’mean? That’s what I tell ‘em when they ask, “Where you from?”
(“Oaktown”)
In the dirty, they gotta love us; you’re dirty, you gotta love us
This (“Oaktown”)
Pimps from CHI to NY spit game that came from (“Oaktown”)
Nah’mean, it’s Town Business