(feat. Short Khop)
(Ganxta Ridd)
Okay Mang This is how it's going to go down
Ganxta Ridd and Short Khop
We're gonna expand
(sniff)
Ya know
L.A., Chicago, Miami, New York, to the Islands
(sniff)
At 13 fava Game is Brutal We're gonna make moves
(Verse Ganxta Ridd)
I gangsta out the border
With Short Khop strapped the 4 chicken and two coldaz
On a run just to feed our sons and daughtaz
The rich get rich the po' get slaughta'd
Nobody cares it's the new world orda
It aint fair look at all the return soldiaz
They all fucked up in the head when they soba
Rabblin to self thinkin the war is ova
Lets take it back to pulp fiction so you can
Paint a betta pikcha of this conversation
It all started back in 89
Chris Blackwell said come to my Island and sign
Headed to New York for tha progress
We said that the nigga that discovered Bob Marley
You know no woman no cry
But we was out there thinkin everythang gon be all right
I'm tired but I'm not tired of livin
Just tired of the bullshit this industry was givin
I'm not the first to complain
I'm just the first to say fuck yall in every which way
I love the music guess the music didnt love me
Oscilatin champs we been bangin since the 80's
If I should die tell the judge just to blame me
I stay a rida aint nobody gonna save me
Starz peneltonz and bandanaz
Represent the gang bangaz cuss words and bad mannaz
I'm smashin 110 on the speed scanna
Fuck the fedz ATF and the chicken hammaz
(chorus)
(tell em ganxta) HEATED
Dippin down burgandy west galeez
Please believe it
When they comin to get us (bang at yo own)
Stackin lettaz takin no feddaz
No one can do it betta
When they comin to get us stackin lettaz takin no
fettaz stay (tell em ganxta)
Heated
Dippin down burgandy west galeez
Please believe it
When they comin to get us (bang at yo own)
Stackin lettaz takin no feddaz
No one can do it betta
When they comin to get us stackin lettaz takin no
fettaz stay (tell em ganxta)
(Short Khop)
Short Khop
You can find him on the front line where they was at
Yall stay away from that
Homies still afraid of that all black raida hat
Where the gangstaz at most of yall lay dere
But from daycare to gray hair they say poppa stay there
With all odds against him this that and some
Lose some win some pop knock you miss him
But ya niggaz just ridiculous sick as a niggaz syphilis
And feelin like you spittin puss fuel to the tip of and you been a par
Big homie ive been a nut run around in pony tailz
Chest poked out pants saggin like a skinny nut
Feelin like I'm big as fuck with the biggest nutz
Run up on em get em up I run up on em stick em up
And I aint even need that heated where my sleeve at
Point where you breath at your gulls and yo teeth at
The holes where you see at oh plz believe that
(Chorus)
(Verse Ganxta Ridd)
We headed for the borda
Khop and Gangxta on slot foe tha chicken holdaz
The industry thought we was ova
Premeditated rockin bc powder to Boo Yaa bouldaz
Senorita pass by I say hola
You know the pisa jose with the corka
She took us to the back and I told her
She made a move foe tha doe so we showed her
Heated when they was comin to get me
Cuz imma West side I know the bitch wouldn't let me
I put it right in it when the bitch try to check me
A str8 G rida from the gawtiest states
They come from all around try to test the strength of the unfaded
And a portrait of pain
Blood its war zone and ya people is in it
Yall betta warn home ganxta'z comin to get it you want it
I betcha cant get it blood I still got it when I
Still pop it in you hit it all you bad bitches
Yall takin pictures cuz you feel me
Nuh uh you takin pictures cuz yo feddiez wanna kill me
[ INTRO ]
We was born in the streets of L.A.
Where the streets ain't safe at night
Between the beeper and the color of a rag
We have chosen the mic, right?
So the philosophy we learned on the streets
We now bring to this muthafuckin stage
And at this time we likes to unload
These lyrics like a 12-guage
[ VERSE 1: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Bail on stage with a gangster lean
Busters duck once I'm on the scene
Opponents went out the do'
The innocents hit the flo'
As if we started a war
Boo-Yaa! It means a cry from a shotgun
You want some of this, come on and get some
Feel that Boo-Yaa bass, it get louder
Only O.M.B. could provide that power
Power, from the brothers in black (ha!)
No radio can stop this track (ha!)
The Ridd, yeah, gettin rid of MC's
I get them before they even try to get me
If the enemy tries to mob
Get mopped by the Boo-Yaa hit squad
Inmates from the mad house, comin from the lock-in
Chilled with the rats?
You try to run, but you don't get far
Cause I spray your ass with the letter R
Gangsta Ridd - is what?
Rated R
The Ridd
Restricted, restricted
Come on
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
[ VERSE 2: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Comin from the mind of a criminal-ex
Out on a furlough just to snap necks
Once again -
Once, once, once again
Once again the rap criminal, known to be a loc
Since it's rated R (this is for the old folks)
Restricted for the ears of a minor
Lyrics like the sun, so strong it might blind ya
This jam was created for the ears of a realist
Get off my sh*t list (?)
Murder He Wrote, that was my last jam
Like Michael Jordan with the new dunk (check out the new slam)
Here it is and you're beggin for more
A new slam, from the criminal lord
This jam is resctricted for the MCs that fear me
Everytime it play, they run when they hear me
Keep runnin, but you don't get far
Cause this concept is Rated R, the R
Gangsta Ridd - is what?
Rated R
The Ridd
Restricted, restricted
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
[ VERSE 3: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Wait up, get up, step up, I feel the fate now
Cause that Boo-Yaa bass is gettin too loud
But the louder it gets we get much respect
T.R.I.B.E.'s on your back, a bunch of insects
That's my job, puttin em on what
You don't wanna move,?
Smoke from my microphone still linger
MC's drop a dime to the one-time?
Sayin I did it, yeah, the Ridd did it
Now that I know you a snitch, I ain't with it
Buster Brown, you just a clown from a new town
Huffin like you're bad - you ain't down
Hold it, stop, wait a minute and don't move
I have a nation rockin to this groove
My mouth to the mic is like a clip to the Uzi
You see a Uzi spray, you gonna wanna use me
Keep runnin, but you don't get far
Cause I spray your ass with the letter R
Gangsta Ridd - is what?
Rated R
The Ridd
Restricted, restricted
(Huh!)
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
[ VERSE 4: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Restricted for the ears of the mental insane
Lyrics like a drug, you're blowin your brain
Like the homie named Deathrow, Deathrow my bro
Had to go, he was next in row
He went solo, sold his soul to the devil
This I know, he had a tatoo on his elbow
Turn up the radio, this is what he showed
It read: 'life's goin too slow'
Hesitate, you're too late (yeah) the doubt in your route
Is that's what life really about?
This I know, Deathrow was a criminal
It was his time to go, life was too slow
Restricted for the ears of a minor
Make sure there's a adult behind ya
Cause if you're young and you try to get far
I smoke your ass with the letter R
Gangsta Ridd - is what?
Rated R
The Ridd
Restricted, restricted
(Aaahh... ha-ha!)
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
We some hard muthafuckas
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Restricted
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
We some hard muthafuckas
(Yeah, yeah!)
The R, muthafucka
(Yeah, yeah!)
Hey all you headbangers!
Are you ready to party?!
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is pickin up metal!
(Bang)
Bang your head to this
Bang your head
Bang-bang your head to this
(VERSE 1: Ganxsta R? dd)
And get hit by the metal fist
Another metaphor straight from my murder list
I can do this, get up and school this
Those who pick up metal but don't know how to use it
I the Ganxsta have a full Glock
Since the last time they all got shot
So now you know that metal is requested
That's the way the streets select it
So 24/7 we're pickin up metal
That's how we settle our problems in the ghetto
? why does a brother
Pick up metal to kill another
Why is that? I don't know
But I think I have the answer
Turn up the bass and let them all be dancers
Bang your head
Bang-bang your head to this!
(VERSE 2: Ganxsta R? dd)
Part 2 of a death wish
MC's get served on the metal dish
And that wish has already came true
Cause the Ganxsta already played the role of a fool
And I straight go looney
When a buster with metal step to me
O grabs the bass and thumps
Busters duck the funk, what's the last? Riot Pump
The new stage was a 12-gauge? to the cage
Made you say: it ain't like the old days
When we just go head up
The new days everyboody's givin metal up
And you wonder: is it metal or thunder?
It's the sounds of down under
And it's not undercover, it's straight up underground
The sound of our guitar, heavy
The bass gets no heavier
Louder, and it's like gun powder
One strike with metal it's a death every hour
That's why I don't by time, I know what time it is
Bang your head to this
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is pickin up metal!
We're pickin up metal
(VERSE 3: Ganxsta R? dd)
Bang your head to this!
Take the handcuffs off my wrist
So I can bust my shit
Pass me my locs cause I'm finna get yoked
Anyone who stands in the way will get smoked
Cause all we need is your eyes to focus
On Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. who's the locest
Is this what you want, to see what ghetto
Can pick up the heaviest metal?
We give you mo', comin from the backdo'
Another warrior ready for war
Heavier than metal, but metal ain't heavy
Cause the hit squad works out with plenty
Full-metal jacket, just moved up a bracket
Re-load the .45 so we can stack it
All of a sudden you're stuck like a truck
You can't get it up and you're slow like fuck
What a shame, try to play the metal game
Revenge is for giants, it's a soldier thing
Straight up, from the hardest ghetto
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is pickin up metal!
We're pickin up metal
Bang your head
Bang-bang your head to this!
(VERSE 4: Ganxsta R? dd)
Metallica? Think so? Bubble gum
They couldn't understand the 808 kick drum
Melodic, not idiotic
Our music makes sense, right? (Yeeaaahh) Got it
Check it out, acid, I never had none
But if I took some y'all know the outcome
Clack-clack-clack, everybody stand back
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.'s in the house and we're ready with the metal track
King Roscoe the full-metal jacket
I have fire lyrics cause I have it packin
So let's bail and pack the trunk
With the heavy metal guitar and the bass who funks
For all you heavy metallers
Funky beat peddlers, listen to the editors
Like fire in the kettle
I bring the heat if it's metal with a scorn to settle
This is your opportunity to go for yours
Draw for your metal and hit the floor
Cause it's time for war in the ghetto
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is pickin up metal
Bang your head to this
Bang your head
Bang-bang your head to this
This jam is like (played backwards)
You gotta bang your head to this!
Ha-ha-ha-ha...
Time is tickin, the world's gone bad
You ain't with it, you better step back
[ INTRO: Ganxta R'dd ]
It was a cold night
All the homies was kickin it in the g-rides
K.O.D. would load in the M-1
O.M.B. had the bass turned up loud
E.K.A. had the Uzi
Roscoe was holdin the A.K.
The phone rang
It was the Godfather
Givin us another issue
We got strapped, packed into the ride and ready to roll
(Roll) (roll) (roll)
And there they all go
I said "[Name], go up to that third block and flip a u-turn
Lyric clips ready? (ready) (ready)"
[ VERSE 1: Ganxta R'dd ]
Hit the gas, put on a ski mask, right when we pass...
(So what you think, R? dd?) smoke that ass
This ain't a game, straight up reality
Made by the streets, done by insanity
Drive-by, yes, it's the season
When the Ganxta kills for no reason
When an MC is slippin on the front porch
Stick em like a pitch fork, this is not New York
This is a concept comin from L.A.
The West Coast comin with the war braids
So you know we're ready, Roscoe, is the hit squad ready?
Yes, they're ready
It's a clip to an Uzi that I insert
And at the show I unload at the concert
Yes, you just got tagged
Rolled to the bodybag is like rollin up a zig-zag
I can go on and on, tellin you war stories
About gangstas dyin for a territory
We claim the stage like the boulevard
It's only for those who are hard
Hardcore, we give you more
Cause the bass is bumpin from the third floor
So you look up and all you see is the T.R.I.B.E.
You have a teardrop tacked to your eye
25 to life, so you better get with it
You ask who did it, the Ganxta R? dd did it
[ CHORUS: The Godfather Rock TE ]
Once upon a drive-by it was me and the Ganxta R? dd
MC's try to sweat the dawg, this is what he did
[ singing ]
Time is tickin, the world's gone bad
You ain't with it, you better step back
Feel the wrath of the Ganxta
R'dd
[ Ganxta R'dd ]
Damn, that's a hard-ass lyric!
[ Godfather singing ]
Time is tickin, the world's gone bad
You ain't with it, you better step back
Feel the wrath of the Ganxta R? dd
[ Ganxta R'dd ]
That's how it is in the streets of L.A.
People gettin killed today
You smile now and later you die
By a drive-by, you only have time to see the bullets fly
On the news it was televised
An Astrovan on Daytons strolled by
You think I lie? O.M.B. supplies the R.I.-
P. to the busters in front of me
Sweat that ass every time he sees me
Cause I hold the mic and stomp
Cuttin your head on a tree stump, watch the crowd I pump
When it's quiet on the set E.K.A. gets upset
fuck that shit, Ganxta R? dd's up next
And this is a death threat
Time after time you forget
That this is a drive-by hit
fuck a Dayton-stealer
Don-L the K.O.D. is the walk-by ladykiller
Then I turn to the R...
Rock, Roscoe, Rob and Rook
And the R? dd, yeah, he's the microphone crook
O is the left hook
Like when Brooklyn comes to L.A., you get took
So analyze the outlook
The old days a drive-by was heavy
Cause it was done by Machinegun Kelly
The new days this game is to live or die
In L.A. once upon a drive-by
[ CHORUS: The Godfather Rock TE ]
Once upon a drive-by it was me and the Ganxta R? dd
MC's try to sweat the dawg, this is what he did
[ singing ]
Time is tickin, the world's gone bad
You ain't with it, you better step back
Feel the wrath of the Ganxta R'dd
[ Ganxta R? dd ]
Damn, that's a hard-ass lyric!
[ Godfather singing ]
Time is tickin, the world's gone bad
You ain't with it, you better step back
Feel the wrath of the Ganxta R? dd
[ *DJ EZ Mike scratches* ]
[ VERSE 3: Ganxta R'dd ]
It can't be stopped, and it's comin like a blindside
Once upon a drive-by came from the westside
Yes, all you can do is wet your lips
Hopin you don't get hit by the next lyric clip
I turn down the bass so I can feel ya
Ganxta R? dd is the microphone killer
You just got smoked cause the gangsta in me is loc'ed
Stop jackin for spokes
Or else you get picked on O. Mobsta Bass bomb
Another gangsta from the funk farm
This one is created
By the R, muthafucka, who stated
That this jam is rated R
That was the last seminar
We witness a murder on the boulevard
Yes, we just been spotted, spotted on the radar
Soldiers sent from the?
Cause we're comin in too hard
(feat. Layzie Bone)
The rise and fall of an empire
We hustlin crazy (x4)
Gangstas and thugstas and playaz, we hustlin crazy (x4)
(The Riddler)
I'm from that city that breathed it
live playa paper out there for everybody
Trailthem creepin make that paper stack
Ya'll know we got them ballers and playaz
Playa bosses gangsta haters callin shots
U-haulers all caught up in that pen partna
collectin my dough from do, slammin them Lincoln doors
expensive clothes and ho's be hollerin tinted windows bouncin
S - A - M - O - A - N that mafia soldier rollin to the top,
no we never gon stop where we goin showin' all them ...
(Chorus X2)
It's that Mafia Lyfestyle
Gangstas and thugstas and playaz we hustlin crazy
It's that Mafia Lyfestyle
Perpatrators and snitches and haters, ya'll dyin early
(Layzie Bone)
Dedicated to the niggas all across the globe
gettin down for the grind tryin to make a lil dough
real thugs hit em up just to let a nigga know Mo Thug nigga what ?
get the scrilla fa sho ballin outta control hit the yellow brick road
nigga anything goes and we gotta survive
24-7, 365 and I be ready to ride
either thug or you die gimme a hug and don't cry cuz I'm a get mine
take this game on a whole nother level can you feel the pain ?
sometimes it be stressin me man
but the lesson you brang you well worth it
ain't nobody perfect but a nigga pilot ain't nobody stop this Mo Thugs madness
any nigga try then the shit is done, tragic
real drastic, big clips on the automatics
(Chorus x4)
It's that Mafia Lyfestyle
Gangstas and thugstas and playaz we hustlin crazy
It's that Mafia Lyfestyle
Perpatrators and snitches and haters, ya'll dyin early
(The Godfather: Singing)
Momma don't cry for me, my gangsta pain is from these ghetto streets
(The Riddler)
I'm all about my scrill-o
illiminates that middle
that money green no dream
triple beam turn them human beings to fiends
socialize with no feds
never will never did ... now who did ?
playa like that don't wanna live
hater like that don't wanna give
paper out there for everybody
don't let that paper pay pass you by so thick
then you die, don't lay, I don't lie
in the VIP, we gamble cheese, toast to that winning team
table full of that Hennessy, enemies eyes is all on me
(Chorus till fade)
It's that Mafia Lyfestyle
Gangstas and thugstas and playaz we hustlin crazy
It's that Mafia Lyfestyle
Perpatrators and snitches and haters, ya'll dyin early
(The Godfather: Singing over chorus)
My momma don't cry for me, my gangsta pain is from these ghetto streets
(feat. B-Real, Eminem)
(Intro: Eminem)
WAAAAHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOO! (laughs)
Guess who's back?!?!
Mommy! We're home!
Say hello to my little friends
DJ Muggs, Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill
Everybody! Put your hands where my eyes can see!
(Verse: Eminem)
Everywhere we go people know that we roll deep as fuck
Fourty fifty Samoans, they knowing when D-Bo was
50, Tweezy, Obie there won't be no hoe in us
They pop shit like they gon do shit but no one does
From New York down to Texas, back up to Los Angeles
We've changed the way we move so man up if you can't adjust
You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us
It's funny, I guess money does have its advantages
And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched
It's not like we're just feeling ourselves that much
It's just, that if someone ever does put us in the clutch
We just know that y'all ain't gon be the one who's gon do it
Cause first of all you're pussy and everybody can see that
You fuck around, get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at
That you got no business being in, we ain't even gon be in it
No one's gunna hear nothing, no one's gunna see this shit
And they'll be in and up out of it, them boys is bout it, bout it
The noise from (?) be drowned out by the crowd
And you'll be laying on the ground getting trampled by people dancing
Till the club closes, and clears out
And that's when they see you flatened
Nobody saw it happen, all cause your jaws are flapping
And you couldn't stop yapping and took it past rapping
It ain't about the music no more, it's bout trying to show off
And it feels like any minute the bomb is bout to go off
(Chorus: Eminem)
Shit's about to change, cause we ain't playing no games
We ain't budging neither are they, we ain't saying no names
Shit just ain't the same, when the K's get to scream
Hip-hop is in a state of 911
It ain't about hip-hop, cause those days are gone
It ain't about trying rip shots, to get props no more
It's about trying not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor
Cause hip-hop is in a state of 911
(Verse: B-Real)
Step off my holster cause shit it's getting serious
All theses drugs you be fucking with make you delirious
Thinking you coming with heat, yo son, I'm curious
How long are you gunna hate us and judge us and jury us?
Some people can never fade us, that make us so furious
Mistake us for fakers, homie we greater and glorious
We living for real and others just making the stories up
Allusions are broken, so live it up, you corny fucks
If you take a fucking minute to think about what you've done
When you stood against a gangsta who live and die by the gun
Got a hot one, spraying you bitches til there is none
I'm like a rolling stone homie, I got you under my thumb
Silly little bitches can end up right up in ditches
We cut you and give you stitches, for envy and all my riches
Your game's just like a midget, you're clocking a small digit
Dealing with the Giant Goliath, people that's how we live it, c'mon
(Chorus)
(Verse: Ganxsta Ridd)
Uh, gangsta Ganxsta who come to pay you a visit
On this shit you call hip-hop, this function is where did it
When I - put it in motion, my focus is getting branded
My appetite for destruction is blasted because I said it
Got you - stumbling for cover, this music dying in numbers
But you wouldn't pause and wonder, admitting it's all glamour
When you - enter the business you thinking you running shit
You witness that funny shit, your bitches they ain't shit!
We gangstas we blast first, ask questions later
All these - imitators parading like they some playas
Trying to - save hip-hop the task is something greater
Cause we old fashioned coded with loyalty motivaters
Get caught, I'm not telling, or more like killing not caring
I'm riding a - gangsta feeling, no fearing when gangstas dying
I'm in a - full circle with homies that's supposed to bleed
On an 8 Mile mission with Cypress and O.G.'s
[ VERSE 1: Ganxta Ridd ]
This rhyme is mine and I lived it to give it
So that the New Funky Nation can get with it
Understand the plan that's programmed
For all nations to slam this jam
'One Nation Under a Groove' was the first move
So now it's time to get with the New
Funky Nation, the new formation
Turn up that bass for more connection
We must get along in order to live long
So keep bumpin that Boo-Yaa song
So maybe then you can understand the game
The Gangsta draws out the picture to frame
In your mind you think, understand and learn
You play with fire, you're gonna burn
Gangsta know cause I been through
Always lookin for somethin to get into
This, into that
Into my pocket, I pulls out a gat
Cause I'm a hardhead, and I'm down
This is one MC that don't be f**kin around
Takin care of the issue is what I get into
So now it's your time to step to
This jam to be craved for the new generation
Here, this is for the New Funky Nation
And it could be better
(It could be better)
The New Funky Nation
(New Funky Nation)
It could be better
(It could be better)
[ VERSE 2: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Another nation I'm pimpin, lyric clip clippin
The bomb is tickin while the hour glass is drippin
Wastin time at the scene of a crime
It was your rhyme that put MC's in line
Or on queue, I can rock a cue in pool
Put yo ass on quiet, send yo ass back to old school
Step back while I reach for the rack
Grab my brim and tilt it back
I gots to funk this cause I invented it
Another message from the Gangsta who's sendin it
Let it be a lesson for those who don't know
Boo-Yaa soliders packs the O
(Tell them who's O)
One Mobsta Bass who can funk a show
Hang a MC off the cliff and let him go
We can get to it, do it, play Russian Roulette
Show us a trigger and we'll pull it
No time to waste once upon the mic
(So what you think, Ridd?)
This is for is the Nation's delight
All together, we must come as one
Turn up the drums, jealous can't get none
Of Godfather, K.O.D., E.K.A.
Roscoe, the Ridd, and the O makes the other trey
So here's your invitation
This is for the New Funky Nation
And it could be better
(It could be better)
The New Funky Nation
(New Funky Nation)
It could be better
(It could be better)
[ VERSE 3: Ganxsta R'dd ]
We must go on
Cause the New Funky Nation is ready and armed
Straight from the Funk Farm
Yes, we know you can't get with it
But I see your head can move to it
So let's face it
This is for the nation to taste
O, bring in the New Funky Bass
Lights - camera - murder
It was the Riddler who put it together
Understand my demands, another funk band
Pulled you down like quicksand
Don't let it fool you - damn!
Another goddamn preview
I have the message to give to the people
And it's about this New Funky Tempo
They gots to have it, break the old habits
Or another nation will sneak up and grab it
Realizing the nation I'm facin, but we must go on
The New Funky Nation has just been reborn
Bring on the funky horns, we're ready to go
Is the New Funky Nation ready to go?
Yes, we're ready to roll, so now you know
Life has their limitations
Here, this is for the New Funky Nation
And it could be better
(It could be better)
The New Funky Nation
(New Funky Nation)
It could be better
(It could be better)
[ OUTRO: all ]
I pledge allegiance to the Funk
Of the United Funky Nations
And to the public for which it stands
The New Nation is now in our hands
(feat. Kurupt)
(Intro: Kurupt)
I ain't got a problem with nobody, right?
This is Young Gotti, but I got a problem with you
Cause you got a problem with me
Yeah nigga... keeping it real G'd up
Hitting niggaz like +Boo-Yaa!+ punk
What the fuck nigga!
(Verse 1: Ganxta Ridd)
I'm Ridd rhyming, I'm non existant
I'm just a daily, first to burn a convalescent
I'm the example of learning less
I'm spitting possible with two Wesson's, no questions
I'm the question with no guessing
I'm kind of stressing more pounds than two jurisdictions
These rappers don't want prohibition
I will convict him
I'm the West Coast redemption
Target, Coast Ridah, boost eye for an eye
My blood line banging until the eight frame die
I snuggle up the gun, full grip
Them eyes on my dinero, then analyze this
Real out the game, send them on their way to re-admit
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., ain't nothing changed, crowned and convinced
Pimp slap bitches and hoes and gangster slap pimps
And when I went through, it's that GANGSTER SHIT
(Chorus: Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., Kurupt)
(Boo-Yaa) Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(Kurupt) You know what I'm talking about
(Boo-Yaa) You get them fast then.
(Boo-Yaa) Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(Boo-Yaa) This one's on me
(Boo-Yaa) Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(Kurupt) Gangsta, right?
(Boo-Yaa) You get them fast then.
(Boo-Yaa) Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.
(Boo-Yaa) This one's on me
(Verse 2: Kurupt)
G's, T's, where y'all at?
Riders, that's what y'all are (are)
I'm a for real front line folder
I fold front lines and then push they backs over
Mama ain't raised no busters (busters)
And mama ain't raised no punks!
We'll meet front to front
Left the parking lot nigga, see what y'all want (nigga)
Ten toes, ten fingertips
Niggaz don't really want to trip
They want to catch a nigga twenty deep (deep)
And catch niggaz thinking they could sleep (sleep)
Ain't no sleeping in a G zone nigga
BC rider and they every ball nigga
Boo-Yaa and Gotti the original, told y'all nigga
Yeah run through this motherfucker, G'd up huh?
G cut Timbs from the feet up huh?
(Chorus: Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. w/ minor variations)
(Verse 3: Ganxta Ridd)
They love it when I bang through
Sex them all like a truce, fade them all like a rendez vous
I'm hitting senders like I'm hitting switches
Lay bikes like a pipe, play a brick and then they all my bitches
Who's that?, y'all niggaz beef
It's that motherfucker cause I'm getting plot money
Envisioning balls, I'm wishing nuts and jaws
Fuck them trick fools that don't want us to ball
We street flavor, Blood we all involved
I'm all up in the guts quit ticking and crawl
Pass the free fall, fuck the free shows
Slap the hoe all, paws that explode
Motherfuckers die trying mode
Ganxta come on call me Ganxta Ridd
B.C.D.P. B.T. for sure
West West, East Side, .45 reload
(Ganxsta R? dd)
All I know when we get out
We finna roll
Check this one out
Brothers, do we got bass?
(all) (Yes, we got bass)
Too many busters out there on the streets
We gonna have to take em out
(Go on with it, Ridd)
(VERSE 1: Ganxsta R? dd)
But before we go on, my name's Ridd, not Ren
It's me again, comin out the lock-in
O.M.B., my brother, bring on the bass
There's dollars to be made and posses to waste
Pass by the hood to pick up the gat
Stop by the studio for the new track
Q Ball rollin, 8 Ball in the pocket
Just bail on stage and pull the mic out the socket
Boo-Yaa dogs (woof!) locked on the canine
It's '89, it's time to get mine
This madness, you never had this
Home of the O.G.'s (we threw out all the faggots)
I'm pluggin my microphone with full-equipped lyrics
MC's smell the smoke of my mic and they fear it
I'm known to be the hanger for the MC's I hang
I throw a riddle, it come back like a boomerang
(CHORUS)
We're not here to play
We're just here to spray
This is a
(all)
R.A.I.D.
Everybody on the dancefloor
R.A.I.D.
(Woof!)
You gotta know this one
(VERSE 2: Ganxsta R? dd)
If knowledge is power, then I'm muscle-bound
Loc'ed out as a hound, I'm not down in a dog pound
Breakin out, MC's start fakin out
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., time to start takin out
MC's come and MC's go
For all the MC's that go is too slow for my .44
I peel em at the frontdo' (*shot*)
(Boo-yaa!) Then I drag em to the backdo'
Then I say, "You want some more, then say no more"
(Why is that?) Because I'm just too hardcore
So you know Ridd packs a .44
Bring on the rap jam and let's roll
(CHORUS x2)
(VERSE 3: Ganxsta R? dd)
(Put Riddler on the roof) cause I shoot the vics
My mission was to shoot straight to the chicks
I filed a contract, not to confess
Found out that the buster had a bullet-proof vest
(So what did you do?) I had nothin to say
Pulled out my Uzi and I started to spray
Went to the morgue to identify his body
(Yeah, that's him, ? posse at the party)
I'm not prankster, word to Godfather, I'm a gangsta
And this is the time I'd like to give thanks to
All my brothers for doin it (their way)
And now it's my way, we're not here to play
Boo-Yaa - please, who can match?
Like a purse on Imperial (you will get snatched)
And like a Camel in the county (you will get smoked)
And when the Riddler took the loco toll (that was loc'ed)
Check out O.M.B., my bassman, forget the turntable
(Island) the name of my record label
That's the reason my jams sound so hard
Cause it's boomin from a bailin car
Down the boulevard and we don't stop
Cause all you posses get mopped, get dropped
We rock the party, steal all the ladies
Since it's '89 we're in the Eighties
(CHORUS x2)
Hit me deuce times
(Woof, woof!)
(Attention, all D.R.
This is a R.A.I.D.)
Hey homes
It's Psyklone, vato
Ha-ha
Psyko Funk in the house
[ VERSE 1: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Well, I remember in September you was walkin around the club
Cause the music that deejay played had you standin lookin dumb
I was worried, had to hurry, cause the crowd might go home
So I asked the deejay from the club, "Hm-m, can I gets the microphone?"
He looked up at me all surprised, said, "You ain't even black"
So I palmed his face like a basketball and I threw his ass back
I said I'm not a Doobie Brother, but we do be hip
And there's one thing I dislike when people at a party sit
Now I didn't come here to be judged by the color of my skin
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. just went Psyko cause they wouldn't let us in
So we bailed on stage and OMB had turned that bass up loud
But before the one-time could pick us up we had already moved the crowd
With psyko funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop)
Psyko Funk
(Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.)
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-ba-lop-bam-boom)
Psyko Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop)
Psyko Funk, Funk, Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-ba-lop-bam-boom)
[ VERSE 2: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Now we're all in jail for the crime that we all have committed
And the deejay called the one-time, but upfront he couldn't admit it
Now the warden plays our father and we're forced to obey the law
And every morning we wake up with the Psyko Funk roll call
Psyko-alpha-disco-beta-fio-aqua-doo-doo
Fio-aqua-doo-doo, fio-aqua-doo-doo, fio-aqua-doo-doo
Psyko 1, Psyko 2, Psyko 3, Psyko 4
Psyko 5 provides the bass, so it's time he's servin more
Servin time had made us Psyko but the Funk was always there
And if the deejay had some rhythm, Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. wouldn't be in here
But it's times that teach us lessons and there's lessons to be taught
And if it's you who's beein Psyko then it's you who will get caught
With Psyko Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop)
Psyko Funk
(Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.)
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-ba-lop-bam-boom)
Psyko Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop)
Psyko Funk, Funk, Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-ba-lop-bam-boom)
(Some of my stories tonight you've probably heard em before
I'ma do a couple of things just to like warm things around a little bit
To relax y'all sip a beer)
[ VERSE 3: Ganxsta R'dd ]
Now the judge has just released us cause we've been inside so long
And the last words he had said: never to sing that Psyko song
So out the courtroom we all go with a slight grin on our face
Cause the judge forgot about Psyko 5, OMB, he provides the BASS
So we asked our booking agent for a stage that we could raid
And he gave us to a crowd of punk rockers, another crime we must engage
Cause Psyko Funk is sure enough funky, had the punks rockin like monkeys
And if your head ain't right and you snap a lot, then it's you who's a Psyko junkie
Psyko Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop)
Psyko Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-ba-lop-bam-boom)
Psyko Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop)
Psyko Funk, Funk, Funk
(Wop-bop-a-loo-bop-ba-lop-bam-boom)
[ DJ Tony G cutting up ]
(The moral of that story is
Don't mess around and get yo ass stomped)
[ The Godfather Rock ]
(Yeah, yeah, yeah - yeeaaaah)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Booooooooo-Yaa!
Yeah
(Yeah)
(Come on)
(Posses better step back)
(Tell em what it is)
[ VERSE 1: Ganxta R? dd ]
Don't mess with a riot, we're prisoners of emotion
How politicians figure they have the potion?
But I'm the witch doctor, I came to rock ya
(And if it don't work) Then I'm gonna sock ya
Don't need violence, but violence is here
Listen up close and put on a riot gear
Cause Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is comin up hard
(What you think about the posse?) I think we see in a graveyard
I'm the rap criminal, comin from my limo
Every lyric I say, I write it down on my memo
The MC in command, my A.K.? they banned?
Me and you one on one, Ganxta R? dd still stand
I never dirty my back, I never ever get jacked
On stage (cause he carries a gat)
.44's large, I got a big bodyguard
The rap mafia Godfather Rock is in charge
You don't mess
With that Boo-Yaa funk
[ The Godfather Rock ]
(Yeah, yeah, yeah - yeeaaaah)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Booooooooo-Yaa!
I'm gonna tell you only once
(Yeah)
Yo loc
Pass me that second clip, homeboy
I can do this
(Tell em what we about)
[ VERSE 1: Ganxta R? dd ]
Don't mess with a dopedealer, makin transactions
Cause makin money is their satisfaction
Sellin drugs is the way they survive
Smokin drugs is the way they die
So who's the main killer, the pusher or the user?
You figure it out, I'm not here to accuse ya
Cause I'm a dope dealer, slingin records
Makin records, breakin records, settin records
So now you know what time it is
You don't mess with the stuff, you can't hang with this
I'm a pusher, a killer, never to be followed
(To all you posses) 187 with a beer bottle
So how you figure, the R? dd behind the trigger
Huh, you try to run, I hunt you like a ninja
Cause I'm so quick (how quick?) like lightning
To MC's the R? dd is so frightening
They keep askin me (R? dd, what you writin?)
A letter to the posse who comin in here fightin
So like dope dealer would say
You shortstop, my customer get sprayed with the A.K.
You don't mess
Homeboy
[ The Godfather Rock ]
(Yeah, yeah, yeah - yeeaaaah)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Booooooooo-Yaa!
I'm gonna only say it once
Come on
(Yeah)
You think they're ready for the last one?
(I don't know)
Bring on that clip, homeboy
(That one was too funky)
(Give it to em anyway)
(Come on)
[ VERSE 3: Ganxta R? dd ]
Don't mess with the boys in black when your ass get tapped
By Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., the mafia of rap
Life of last (lane) never been delayed
Commit a crime on stage and still get paid
Makin dollars to holler, your posse's to follow
The T.R.I.B.E. get bigger, your posse get smaller
Your lyrics is scratched, your record is dubbed
You ask what's the funk hypin up the club
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
Then you turn to your lady as you say it again
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
Yeah
Don't mess with a bullet when the trigger is pulled
You don't mess with the T.R.I.B.E. when we act a fool
The Godfahter Rock TE, once he starts snappin
O.M.B. on the bass, he starts slappin
R? dd start rappin, my T.R.I.B.E. start cappin
Your posse plays it up, I say, "Yo, what happened?"
Now they got me in a cell, but they fail
I still got E.K.A. and Don-L raisin hell
Put down my mic, I got L.A.'s best
Most wanted stays R? idd, takin over the west
Always been loc'ed since the day we was born
We peel a cap like a monkey peels a orange
Tear your ass up with my lyrics of death
Put down my mic in case you run out of breath
Roll your ass up and tell you to leave
Like the last record company who didn't believe
But that's okay, because the going gets tough
You don't mess with this stuff
So how you like us now?
How ya like us now?
Homeboy
They gonna funk to this
They have to
I'm gonna only tell you once
You don't mess with Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.
[ *DJ EZ Mike cuts up* ]
This is roll call, homeboy
(ooh, that's funky, mama)
2 bad brothas
(ooh, that's funky, mama)
3 bad brothas
(ooh, that's funky, mama)
4 bad brothas
(ooh, that's funky, mama)
5 bad brothas
(ooh, that's funky, mama)
6 bad brothas
Ready?
Hit it
[ verse 1: ganxta r'dd ]
Pong, don simone on the microphone
You like the sound? don't touch the bass, homes
Drop it, you can't stop it, you wish you would
'kick it in the hood...' - you never could
Good, better than bad, the new fad
But your 6-4 can never touch my cad
The granddad, now you call me superior
You know my name, but me, i never hear of ya
Rid - r-i-d, now say it backwards
D-i-r, director in control respective
You think you're rollin, jock holdin walkin around
But the t.r.i.b.e. rides deep, so deep you might drown
Now, you picked a letter
You picked the r, it's time to fade the trendsetter
Never, i'm just too clever, cause i'm the ganxsta
To kill ya, you're the vermin, i'll drank ya
Intoxicated, r rated with the content
This one's so funky, gotta use it in my concert
You get hurt if you try to revert to any other
>from the six bad brothas
7 bad brothas
8 bad brothas
9 bad brothas
[ verse 2: ganxta r'dd ]
10, chin, you give the pin to the hench men
A kite was shot straight to the hit man
6 is better than 1
But six bad brothas with guns
Packin 808 kick drums
Bad muthaf**kas, six wanted hustlers
Down for the count, we kill you with a muffler
Silence - they said real bad boys move in silence
But the hard loud ones are more violent
I keep strollin cause of the mic i'm holdin
16 deep, so you know we rollin
Doin it like gangsters, rollin like stars
Busters beat up girls and tuck behind the hard
Hardcore, identical to the last one
All you can do is make beer runs
You got it like this, we got it like that
Man, y'all ain't be got no gat...
Boo-yaa t.r.i.b.e. is the winnin team
(why you say that?) cause we get the loudest scream
So hold your b*tch tight, cause we're all fighters, not lovers
Yeah, six bad brothas
7 bad brothas
8 bad brothas
9 bad brothas
(ooh, that's funky, mama)
Godfather, you think they can get with t.r.i.b.e.?
[ godfather ]
Na, na, na, na, na
Tell em, t.r.i.b.e.
[ all ]
Na, na, na, na, na
Godfather - a bad brotha
(king roscoe) - a bad brotha
(k.o.d.) - a bad brotha
(e.k.a.) - a bad brotha
(o.m.b.) - a bad brotha
Ganxta r? dd - a bad brotha
And to the t.r.i.b.e. - some bad brothas
Yeah
Word to the brothas
[ verse 3: ganxta r'dd ]
I don't need an application for this ryhme creation
A boo-yaa to ya with the rhyme reputation
Multiply like a fly, opponents realize
6 bad brothas finna energize
? rhyme sayer is what you wanna be
I said a rap, he was crap, sounded more like a summary
O is on the go, known to be a bragger
Goin straight to all you posses like a 12" dagger
Suicidal, emotion will result in disgrace
A rhyme sayer, a player simply settin the pace
Temperature flare to a certain degree
And like a cold we got symptoms inside you will see
Now our dry cell analyzed, we can't be defined
Coordinated, updated with the one-track mind
Yo, the mind (what is the mind?)
The mind is a tool that make busters go blind
Manipulator, fader, perpetrator hater
Innovator, debater, operator, calculator
Rap schooler, and there ain't no cooler
When it comes to mc's, boo-yaa the rap rulers
1 bad brotha
2 bad brothas
3 bad brothas
4 bad brothas
5 bad brothas
6 bad brothas
That's all it takes, homeboy
(Ganxsta R? dd)
So how you figure we gon' pump this crowd up, homeboy?
Just pass me the riot pump
I'll pump this crowd up
Everybody step back
A riot pump, y'all
Pump it up, y'all
A pump it up, y'all
A riot pump, y'all
Pump it up, y'all
The riot pump, y'all
Pump, pump, pump, pump me up
(simultaneously with the Trouble Funk sample)
(Pump, pump, pump, pump me up)
(VERSE 1: Ganxsta R? dd)
Quick like a reflex, written like a schooltext
O.M.B., slap the bass, Rosco, bust the flex
All you posses, come on and give it up
T.R.I.B.E. rollin? you know what's up
Put down the pencil, pick up a pistol
You turn around again, we won't miss you
The m-i-c to the T.R.I.B.E.
Is a gat to a sucker MC
Close range, got the aim
And you're to blame
And to your syndicate*, nothin changed, you're still the same
This bassline's kickin up real dust
You down with it, you gonna have to get with us
Livin a life of a villain
You keep buyin, we keep sellin
Time for you to surrender, it's just a character
Don't try to run, we'll hunt you like a predator
Prey like a vulture, you make a Boo-Yaa sculpture
Did you know we're doin it for the culture?
Down from the big brown Boo-Yaa town
Forget the ounce, instead try to slap a pound
(not sure if this is a Rhyme Syndicate dis)
Pump, y'all
A riot pump, y'all
Riot pump, y'all
Pump it up, y'all
A riot pump, y'all
Pump it up, y'all
Pass me my riot pump
(Trouble Funk) (Pump, pump, pump, pump me up)
Can anyone feel the fuckin funk?
This one goes out to all you busters
(VERSE 2: Ganxsta R? dd)
187 to the posse, a Boo-Yaa logo
Y'all already know (that's when it's loco)
Kickin up dust, let the dust remain
Turn up that bass, that's the crowd's main thing
Bass - that ultimate choice
Sprayin MC's by the shot of my voice
Posses claim old school and new school
But like a criminal I used to ditch school
That's why you will always be reminded
? Boo-Yaa, we're criminal minded
Step back, hah, get ready
(To all you posses) 187 with machetes
Unload like a .44, I got soul
Comin like Geronimo
? Alamo
Caged like a criminal
And I know from the frontdo'
Busta, let me go, I'm finna tell the Roscoe
Pump the pusher, I'm the criminal
(To all you posses) 187 from a limo (limo, limo, limo)
They say we're gangsters, so let the stage be the streets
Our drive-by's? I took the posse with me
Renegades with braids finna unload the guage
Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., Boo-Yaa stage
Riot pump, y'all
Pump it up, y'all
A pump it up, y'all
A pump it up, a pump it up, a pump it up, y'all
Riot pump, y'all
Pump it up, y'all
Tell em
(Trouble Funk) (Pump, pump, pump, pump me up)
This is that time
When Ridd loads up another clip
(VERSE 3: Ganxsta R? dd)
I said I was loced to that posse I smoked
I told a riddle, they thought it was a new joke
Rap fiend, I'm a killin machine
It's Ganxsta R? dd cuttin like a guillotine
It's a passion being a assassin
They think we're gangsters, it's just a fashion
Forget the news, cause there's nothin excitin
It's our time, Boo-Yaa's ridin
(Boo-Yaa, Boo-Yaa hoo-ridin)
(Boo-Yaa, Boo-Yaa hoo-ridin)
(Boo-Yaa, Boo-Yaa hoo-ridin)
Pass me the remote
Turn to Godzilla, pass me the Miller
Now you know we some posse killers
The baby gangsta comin for the kingpin
It's a contract set from the state pen
The baby gangster, I'm the executioner
And everybody say (?)
No, cause I know it's your last show
Rush it then, I'm only out on a furlough
Time is money, and money is time
I see I left you scared to stand behind me
Frontline, stand all position
Brown Berets, we're on a mission
On a mission to the t-o-p
And I'm down with T.R.I.B.E.
The remains of material in this rhyme
Is a word for man, a shock for mankind
We have risen above trivial insult
But surprised by the unexpected results
That's why you be what you wanna be
I'm killin MC's, 187 to your posse
You get the riddle? I ain't no joke
Pass me my riot pump, we finna get loc'ed
And when we do this, we want everybody to clap your hands
A riot pump, y'all
A Pump it up, y'all
A pump it up, a pump it up, a pump it up, y'all
Riot pump, y'all
A pump it up, y'all
Tell em
(Pump, pump, pump, pump me up)
EZ Mike with it, homeboys
The Gis
The Gis
TNT gettin funky
Let's roll
Come on
You want us to leave the gat in the back?
(feat. Mack 10)
(chorus)
Niggaz wanna fuck with me
That's why I gots to bang on you
Hater's wanna fuck with the g's
That's why we gots bang on you
Niggaz wanna fuck with me
That's why I gots to bang on you
Hater's wanna fuck with the g's
That's why I gots bang on you
(verse-Ganxta Ridd)
I say fuck them all when I bang them on some
From Inglewood to my city of Carson
Through every hood you should be bangin more often
Is your life more then what it is costin
Chicken hawker shit talken dogg barker
Ghost the scene the snatch of the nath watcher
The cock it down blood walker collar blocker
Never through it up I through down with the wreath rock
SOO WOO set ride on the left put my flag on my
shoulder so it lays on my chest
The dime piece put the "I" in finess but you can bless
that chrome while I bless my fit
It's on tell these 5th niggaz its on p-funk I funk or no funk at all
Ganxta Ridd Mack tension with the flamedarin
Piru 3 street yall ain't ready for this
(chorus)
(Mack 10)
uh HUH
eyes forward
Look
(verse Mack 10)
Yall don't understand I bang on hoe niggaz
Slang blowin in a drive jack foe moe figgaz
Walk in the party moe flamed then a arsen
Cuz the QSI caught a link with the Carson
I'm Gangsta, you ain't tryed it don't knock it
Sag when I feel flag in my right pocket
The Westin G'z it ain't a new style
And the Boo Yaa moe samoans then a luau
I fucks with 'em cuz we from the same side
And who ever got hit with the cake flame died
Always been a rida always stood up
Damu niggaz and bitches throw yo hood up (SOO WOO)
Get it how you live if you tamper with the sack
I go to war over crack like Bush and Iraq (ha ha)
It's mack 10 nigga hoo bangin affiliate
Stay gangsta all the time and fuck who ain't feelin it
(chorus)
(verse-Gangxta Ridd)
I stay flamed up ritual keep the dickies original
Author of the smash through a gang funeral
With the G.A.W.T.T.I. belt buckled the west chuckle
My bloody knuckles can't stop my hustle
They puzzle how the hen get guzzled
They tumble tryin to fade through the muscle
They in trouble when the mind go humble
The debree from the rubble got the whole ben doubled
Where they at they go gangsta shit
Where you from here we go gangsta hit
The rap rolla scrap brawler burgandy maroon
Neva visualize unless it go boom
G.A.W.T.T.I. get deflan boss of all dons
Always outnumber but never outdone
Niggaz don't want to march unless we a million
Let me p-funk it Westside and make don
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