[First Verse]
   X-Raided locc never was a choir boy
   Ya folks got a gang of priors
   Maybe that's why one-time's be triflin
   Tryin to give a young nigga thirty-five to life
   When i ain't even done nothin wrong offica
   I have no in-fo to offer-ya
   He asked my name so i came off the brain
   Told him, "I'm John Doe and this is my hoe Jane"
   He said, "smart mouth nigga, don't make me do ya"
   Put my thumbprint in his high-tech computer
   My name came back with a warrant, felonies
   Now they got me down town, spreadin my anus
   Buttocks, I'm like, "what the fuck is it now ?"
   They say I robbed a liquor store; they know when, where, and how
   And it's foul, got your boy to' up from the flo' up
   Moms in the courtroom lookin like she bout to throw up
   It's a strong armed robbery, strapped in the commosion
   Pre-trial conference, D.A. got a proposition
   He said your losing trial, you'll get 38 with "L" on top
   Take the deal he'd give me five with havin most of the charges dropped
   Hopped on the deal quicker than flash
   It's sad I admit that, but two and a half ain't bad I got getback
   Sentence me to five, two I gotta bring
   Only strike one, swing batta batta swing
  
   [Chorus]
   One-eight-seven on the D.A.
   He ain't tryin to give a young black nigga no leeway
   Yes yes... y'all
   One-eight seven on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em' all
   You better swing batta batta swing
   Cause when you get your third felony, thats fifty years you gotta bring
   It's a deadly game of baseball
   So when they try to pull you over
   Shoot em' in the face y'all
  
   [Second Verse]
   Now i'm fresh out, unrehabilitated
   Raided doin hella good, and my P.O. hates it
   Hates dick, she's a dyke lesbian bitch
   Can't wait to violate me for some petty ass shit
   I gotta get a job so I'm fillin applications
   Fightin the temptation, of slang-nation
   Minimum wage don't get it, five bucks an hour don't cut it
   Raided ain't widdit
   Fuck it, went and struck it rich on the dope sack
   The homie gave me two, and told me to bring him fo' back
   Now it's time for me to start havin thangs
   Got me a coupe and painted it candy apple green
   It gleams, clear coat sprayed on thickly
   Fools out to get me cause my shit is lookin sticky
   I'm at the club and I can feel them sucka's scopin
   I'm knowin they plottin on me, but I'm still hopin
   They won't try my unless they want to die
   They will be drippin more blood than Mrs. Simpson was
   Sho' nuff, ain't a bluff, here them sucka's come
   Got me reachin under the panel to handle the forty-four caliber gun, uhh
   Spun him around with a fat magnum round
   Got him on the ground makin funny sounds, uhh
   I got a problem, witnesses
   Ten pos-itive identi-fa-cations
  
   [Chorus]
   One-eight-seven on the D.A.
   He ain't tryin to give a young motherfucka no leeway
   Yes yes... y'all
   One-eight seven on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em' all
   You better swing batta batta swing
   Cause when you get your third felony, thats fifty years you gotta bring
   It's a deadly game of baseball
   So when they try to pull you over
   Take em' on a chase y'all
  
   [Third Verse]
   I'm on swoll, five years later
   Fresh out the pin, locc'ed up I'm X-Raided
   X-Raided locc ready to have me a ball
   Fuck my P.O. I'm goin AWOL
   They all can suck my dick
   I'm sick and tired of goin through all this bitch-made shit
   I got two strikes right now as we speak, and peep
   I'm not gonna let you motherfuckas do me
   A petty with a prior will buy your fate
   With wilson in office you gets no date
   So I'm putting my belongings on grayhound bus number twenty-two
   Headed to another state, me and my crew
   Unpack my shit, stack my grip
   California and Pete Wilson can suck this dick
   If you already didn't know, you couldn't trust his bitch ass
   Look how he did Polly Klass
   Used her death, and the family's name
   To gain more votes, and political fame
   And it's a shame, I'm the one they sayin is a monster
   Juvenile delinquent, steppin out of sequence
   Fuck that, I ain't goin out like a punk
   That ain't my style, rip him from his asscrack to his nuttsack now
   They wanna kill a nigga like me
   I blast one, blast two, strike three yellin...
  
   [Chorus]
   One-eight-seven on the D.A.
   He ain't tryin to give a young motherfucka no leeway
   Yes yes... y'all
   One-eight-seven on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em' all