Drop a old school beat
Now the taste of Crystal is fillin' up my bladder
What's the time on the Rolie? It don't matter
Had a pocket full of phone numbers I was tryin' to sort
To make a long story short
Ran into this girl named Sally
Knew her from the backseat of my homeboy's Navi
She said what's up, yeah, what's the deal?
Check the nappy weave, of course it ain't real
Then I looked down, she was fat in the front
I asked how long, she said, "About 6 months"
"Oh, how time flies when you're havin' fun"
She said, "Yeah, but the damage is done"
"Where you been?", "On a little vacation"
"Oh, by the way, congratulations, who's the lucky man?"
She said, "I got him on file"
Then she said, "It's Spice 1", and smiled
I dropped my stout, then everything went blank
"Had a baby by you, the neighborhood skank?"
She said, "Yeah, don't you remember that day?"
I thought back and tried to calculate
Then I said, "Damn, are you sure it's mine?
My homies did the soultrain on ya plenty of times"
She said, "That day, nah, I went whorin' and your ass is mine"
That's when the sweat started pourin'
'Cause all I seen was Spice 1 up in court
Paying a gang on child support
Then I thought deep about givin' up the fetti
What I need to do is kick the bitch in the belly
Nah, 'cause then I'd really be faded
That's murder one 'cause it was premeditated
What should I do, kidnap the bitch and flee?
How many months left? Damn, only 3
I'm gettin' faded
Goddamn, what the fuck I done got myself into?
This shit is dense
(Damn, I'm gettin' faded)
Muthafuckas tryin' to take my driver's license and shit
(Bitch, you can't fade me)
This bitch got a grip on my muthafuckin' nuts, mayn
(Damn, I'm gettin' faded)
But you know what? I ain't finna go out
It's crazy, because before I could sleep with her
I had to duck and dodge and try to creep with her
See, the booty in the front was all in place
But the girl had a pit bull face
So I ran, jumped, drove, swam, crawled, hid
Oh Lord, God forbid
The homies see me at the hotel
'Cause I know they would love to just go tell
Everybody in the hood that knows you're nasty
Elbows and knees and feet was hella ashy
So hold the big fat butt steady
'Cause yo, bitch, I got the three rubbers ready
She started gruntin' and squealin' like a wild boar
I hit the ass from Cali to Singapore
I dropped her off, man and now I'm knowin'
That I'ma hate myself in the mornin'
I got drunk to help me forget
Damn, another day, another hit
Shit, I'm gettin' faded
No cigars, nigga
(Damn, you can't fade me)
You better fire up a muthafuckin' blunt and get some hen dog
9 months later she's ready to drop the load
And all the partners in the hood already know
That it's 'posed to be mine and they laughin' at me
You know Spice 1 can't be havin' that G
Thinkin' to myself, why did I bang her?
Now I'm in the closet lookin' for the hanger
Kaos, Vic Rock and [Incomprehensible] won't let up
They won't shut up, I'm gettin' fed up
'Cause I know, you're tryin' to break me
And if I find out you're tryin' to fade me
I'ma clock yo' ass with my shoe
Beat you down and leave a crown or two
That night she went into labor
And the shit is gettin' kinda major
The baby came out, damn, it was a lifesaver
Lookin' like my next door neighbor
She said it was mine, that was her best guess
But let's check the results of the blood test
I started smilin', yeah, 'cause it read negative
Damn, why did I let her live?
After that I shoulda got the gat
And bust and rushed and illed and peeled the cap
But no, I just told the hoe who laid me
"Excuse me, bitch, it's a switch, you can't fade me"
Nah, bitch, it ain't even finna go down like that
A nigga like me ain't finna go for the okey doke
(The bitch tryin' to fade me)
The bitch out here thinkin' she get a muthafucka for his cash and shit
Playin' a muthafucka for some type of bitch ass nigga
But you know what? Before I go for the okey doke, hoe
(You can't fade me)
I'ma let the pistol smoke and that's real
Heh heh
Yeah, goddamn it?s that old gangsta shit right there boy
Goddamn shit, heh heh
This is Dope Fiend Willy from the last muthafuckin' record
I want the ten piece, hey I got me some
Now I don?t give a fuck but uh huh, yeah you all
Ain?t gonna know nothin 'bout this O.G. shit
Unless you start knowin' somethin' about Uzi?s and shit
So uh?
Now this 380 was a bitch who used to ho' up on my block
She lived on Smith-N-Wesson with that pimp, Mr. Glock
Now Glock had many bitches, he sold pussy by the pound
And bitches jocked his trigga every time he came around
Big baller, big game shooter
Until he met that crazy muthafucka, Mr. Ruger
Now Ruger was a pimp too, he had his own hoes
Mrs. Hollow Tip and Neener who wore ho?ish clothes
G-string up the ass with the big fat clitoris
Drinkin that Colt 45 cuz she?s a gangsta bitch
I love my neener and my neener loves me
Muthafucka?s think I?m crazy cuz I?m trigga happy
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Heh heh, well goddamn Smith-N-Wesson
Heh heh heh, I got me a colt 45 back at the muthafuckin' house
Heh heh, yeah, I?m ready to do somethin?
With one of these little ol? young muthafucka?s
Heh heh yeah, but I think maybe a ol? ten piece
Hook me up, muthafucka, I know you got that shit
Yeah muthafuckin Dope Fiend Willie in the house
Don?t give a fuck about no nigga, heh muthafucka shit
Mr. Snubnose slangin the yay out the bullet shed
And Mrs. Mossberg blowin up his [unverified]
And the shit, it don?t be gettin' no better
You gotta watch for that crooked ass cop Officer Beretta
Put your ass in a sling, check out that skinny ass bitch deuce deuce
Thinking she miss thing and Mr. Technine lookin' for some convo
And he jammed and stuttered when he could had a hoe
But he still knockin' boots from hell to heaven
Nigga got a page about three feety seven gettin' paid for the cot
So now he got a deal with that bitch?s pimp Mr. Glock
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Yeah yeah I like that new shit boy
Yeah heh heh trigga happy, trigga happy heh trigga happy, nigga
Yeah I like that shit, I?m 'bout to go over here
And talk to these girls over here damn, baby what you got on and shit?
Now every nigga?s wavin' peace to the nine
Cuz glock hit the block in a jeep drinkin' cheap wine
With his nigga AK drug kingpin gotta find Mr. Technine do his ass in
Niggas plottin' hits plottin' schemes but Mr. Technine?s got an AR-15
An O.G. nigga from the hood got his cash on rollin' fly brooms
Smokin' chronic to the fuckin' dome
And Mr. Glock got the word from his people
Mr. Technine?s havin a party at The Desert Eagle
So right in front of the club when he checked his beeper
Technine blasted his ass with the street sweeper
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy, nigga
Goddamn shit fuck y'all and your folks got these days
That old chronic shit look at that!
Goddamn boy, let me get another hit of that shit goddamn
Livin in a world harcore,
Niggaz be dumpin on them foes,
Catching cases highspeed chases,
40 gz and 2 kilos, give me everything,
'cause I ain't all the world seem,
Seen to much mother fuckin gangsta shit and sucked up the game,
Times are savage,
Hardcore playaz ain't your average,
Trunk full of triple beams,
And the schemes of cream and cabbage,
Niggaz die for dead presidents on a green peice of paper,
With the smash down for the cash niggaz that was in my thug nation.
Try to scalp all fuck half the world I want it all!
But I'm bustin at u niggaz,
With my back against the wall.
Fuck u bitch ass niggaz, lil trick ass niggaz,
Make your name up in my mouth taste like shit ass niggaz,
See myself a smokin pistol, when I look in the mirror,
Its like a hologram picture of a tired up niggaz (ahahaha)
You never really really know the game,
'cause every time a nigga look up, the shit a changed,
Chorus
Nigga I wake up in the morning with a hustle and game,
Stick a needle in my vain,
Eatch injecting the game,
Tired all thugged out,
Fuck the money fuck the fame,
Try to make it happen mother fucker,
'cause we too deep in the game.
Verse 2
Its time to make it happen get paid,
Its that nigga s y a s k,
Tag- teamin for high screamin, plates in the a.
There slackers they slangin all day.
Until the players rock and get paid,
Like on the ground face down, break yourslf,
Dont fuck around, and get sprayed,
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? paper.
Im on paper,
Leavin fakers with the fakers,
Like loaded pistols to their faces,
I told my family as soon as I get the dough,
Im on my way back home,shit across the border
Like hard ? standon like noreaga the money maka,
Scott free across the sea,
Sippin cone whiskey, with the miggy gz gz.
Cold red fantasies, board a bocin,
Kick back floating across the ocean.
Like the black lack triple ds the mack,
Slanging the niggaz like keys of crack,
Back for opportunities,
'cause our niggas sees is scratched,
Playing for keeps,
Addicted to getting it for quitting it,
Like the junkies hop fiends,
Chorus:
Nigga I wake up in the morning with a hustle and game,
Stick a needle in my vain,
Eatch injecting the game,
Tired all thugged out,
Fuck the money fuck the fame,
Try to make it happen mother fucker,
'cause we too deep in the game.
Verse 3
U sound crackin mad 'cause I ain't getting no younger,
And eatch mother fuckin poe poes that ain't getting my dough,
Roll a hummer for the summer,
Rad katty in the fall,
Keep my mind on my money,
Platinum plats on the wall,
U niggaz know I wont be fucking around,
Im bout the cash,
And I hope u know I'm all about action,
And down to blast,
What the fuck u think,
My homies are killas and drug dealers,
Use pills for sinuses,
Crash homes and dome niggaz,
Break bones and stoned niggaz.
Where u had to be ? ? ?
Got gome ? ? ? niggaz getting toed out,
Just dipping just getting niggaz twited up, smoked up.
On a mission for the cash, cant be stuck up we mashed.
Were protection the money figures, protectiing them with triggaz
City under seige, probably distruged, because some foes are killas,
But no body claimin 'cause their fobutaded niggaz,
Damn Eiht
What the fuck we gonna do now?
I don't know homeboy you know what I'm sayin' but I'll tell you like this
We gonna bust some ass for the ninety-three shot
Right, these motherfuckers don't understand we ain't from around here
That's all right you know what I'm sayin'
'Cause we ain't takin' no shorts you know what I'm sayin'
Compton meets the motherfuckin' bay town nigga
So step the fuck off this you know what I'm sayin'
My nigga spice get with 'em
Ya see I'm nothin' but a mac-10 shooter
Killer man looter on the creep with the glock
Got it cocked picidy pop
I cold shot when the cop drop m-a-money gone nigga
Mind of a lunatic on a steel trigger
Motherfuckin flash backs of nigga's bodies rip
From the ak blast on that ass hollow point to the tip to the toe
Creep slow and watch the blood hit the fuckin' flo'
It's the goddamn murda show
Starring a nigga in black wearin' a weed hat creepin' low
And co-starring is a psycho motherfucker
He grew up in Compton bustin' caps at the cluckers
His name is MC motherfuckin' Eiht
He got the uzi weigh a ton eatin' niggas like a steak on a plate
So nigga get your popcorn and peanuts 'cause we nuts and we know
Sit back and watch a nigga murda at the murda show
A to the motherfuckin' K
187 proof ass nigga from the bay
(Murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from Compton that's stompin'
Raise up off my jock with the fools that I glock
A to the motherfuckin' K
187 proof ass nigga from the bay
(Murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from Compton that's stompin'
Raise up off my jock with the fools that I glock
Nigga shut your fuckin' trap, yeah your punk ass is sure
Sure that they sew when I peel your cap
The slide the slick, suck my dick
No mistaking I bring home greens, fuck the bacon
The big black neck getting motherfuckers sprung
They'll be put in the trash by this Compton tongue
Eiht, Spice-1, kickin' much ass for fun
Ain't nothin' but some nigga sold the one
Fools need to stay the fuck down
They can't hang when we bang from Compton and the bay town
It's like the last dance or your last chance
When I reach in for the strap in my fuckin' pants
I pump' dead then the scene is fair ain't nothin said
Even your skinny ass dead
I can?t sleep 'cause it?s time to go
Fool or I'll be late for the murda show nigga
A to the motherfuckin' K
187 proof ass nigga from the bay
(Murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from Compton that's stompin'
Raise up off my jock with the niggas that I glock
A to the motherfuckin' K
187 proof ass nigga from the bay
(Murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from Compton that's stompin'
Raise up off my jock with the fools that I glock
Step in to the torture chamber nigga let me torture
Hangers on your motherfuckin' back bring ya scorcher
Psychopathic mad man dead body chucker
Quick to pull the trigger on another motherfucker
Slangin' to the bass head bitches in the alley
Killin' for my motherfuckin' cash in recally
My nigga MC Eiht will make the getaway drive
I got the gat hangin' up out the motherfuckin' ride
Niggas be getting the duck sit fuckin' with the player
Sprayer layer nigga out with the shout of the t-t-tech
Mic motherfuckin' check one stabbin' niggas
Up in the lungs plus the caps with bloody guns
My uzi's got my back if player haters wanna jump
The motherfuckin' hollow head his chest thump, thump
And all the niggas leave his bloody body in the dust
One-nigga dead seventeen caps bust
That's how the niggas do this shit where I'm from
Red-rum leave your body numb blast of the dumb, dumb
I got the glock and I'm headin' for the liquor store
Me and Eiht are two-eleven at the motherfuckin' murda show
A to the motherfuckin' K
187 proof ass nigga from the bay
(Murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from Compton that's stompin'
Raise up off my jock or you might get the glock
A to the motherfuckin' K
187 proof ass nigga from the bay
(Murda show)
Yeah, and you ask me to stay the fuck down
Bangin' from Compton and the bay town
Yeah, come on
Uh, Spice-1 and MC Eiht
And that eases the nine
.
Intro:
Yeah, I heard niggaz out here talking major shit you dig
But ain't no motherfucker step to me and said "spice you a punk"
Cause you know I whup his motherfuckin ass
Chorus:
Niggas be muggin me, don't show no love for me
Don't playa hate me love tha thug in me
Now when I walk on by, niggaz be muggin me
Don't playa hate me love tha thug in me
Now if your hoe come knockin at my door, she
Must want a thug ass nigga for sure
Cause it's the young playa spiz-ice and I be stacking my paper
24 motherfuckin 7, a nigga havin it major
Now we can do this like playas
Or we can hop into some gangsta shit
Niggas be tryin to clown, when your bailin with your bitch
I almost fell, gettin up out the car but see
I had to pistol whip the nigga because he knows who we are
We the niggas with the lex's, rolexes laced up with diamonds
Timer, timer, baller, baller
She fucked with the shot caller now
Didn't need no scrilla to get her, she want a thug nigga
Poppin collars, and at the same time clockin dollars
Real as they come I got soldiers ready to rob at night
And when a nigga goes to your jar you don't attempt to fight
You playa hate daily, talkin the shit on the ace
But you a bitch cause you never talk the shit to my face
Chorus 2x
I put the pedal to the metal and uh jump the chevy
Heavy in the game
But about four five different ghetto names
I can't be tamed I'm a g to my heart
I can't be changed I've been breaking these niggaz down from the start
I'm hearing shit up in the streets man, niggaz is crazy
I've been serving them dope fiends on that block
Since you was babies
And the world is yours, nigga you can have it all
But if you talk bad on this g ass nigga you'll take a fall, blaaaow
How many hoes want a nigga that get his ass kicked
Car took, whupped and jacked ain't got no get back
I ain't the type to let no nigga jack me
Baby we cool if they run up on the caddy
Chorus 2x
I'm off the hennessy, when it's me she's callin right back
I'm up in the benzo on the mobile spittin the game off the yack
I'm strapped with two blacks, 'cause I ain't the baller
Who be out there slippin
She understands niggaz be playa hatin so she ain't trippin
Saggy pants g-braids but nigga still out to get paid
I'm keepin my mind up on my money and all my money is made
Shadetree niggaz be tryin to get in my mix
Conflicts, 40 caliber cliques when I be burying tricks
She seen me knock niggaz out now I do walkbys
Now I put faulty ass niggas between them chalk lines
See everybody be lookin when I be bailin, trailin indo smoke
See it ain't nothing but the smooth sailin
And now I kick back and enjoy my riches on a sunny day
But sucka ass niggaz be all up in my way
You're secure don't you worry bout a thang
I got these two twin glocks and when they cocked this is what they say
(*several coughs*) (*inhales*)
(intro)
Yeah, hahahaha, we's black again from the face down in the river huh, huh
Mark from tellin nigga jokes (oh shit, ain't about a bitch), yeah
(spice 1)
I got your mama up in the shoop of my hooptie, what should I do with the bitch?
I think I want to dump her in a ditch, cause I'm the kidnapper
Body-snatcher, witness killer, special deliver, from murder to your dough nigga
Open it up and you'll be starin right down a rarer, rarer desert eagle fo-fo
I'll split your flow it's time to bail, stick and move, dip and dive
It ain't no trace, just a bullet enlodged up in your fuckin face
I knew a nigga who always wore black
Said he was an o.g. player shot up some niggas with macks
Said he had a little drama with some high powered killers
And the nigga that watched his back, he said he'll give me some scriller
So he partied through the city, hittin party's and clubs
Cause these so called o.g. motherfuckers finally showed up
These bastards opened fire in the middle of the party
Blow to the blow and put my mack and aimed the legs and body (oh shit, God damn)
(chorus)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(punk ass motherfuckers)
(nigga, fuck that nigga, straightly smoked)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(spice 1)
I hit two niggas up in the ankle and one in the knee
Ain't nothin but the motherfuckin hog in me
So i's bail to my caddy with the triple gold bangers
Your crowd run on members, and still got one up in the chamber
I told my nigga to bring his slow ass on
Cause if he's stylin, the motherfuckers the other two won't be long
They comin, so hit the dirt and try to crawl to the villians (niggas)
These fools is some killers and I can see they really want this nigga
Musta fucked em on some paper or somethin sick
Whatever it is these niggas want to bury his dick
Got in the caddy and raced up out the drama scene
Looked like some gangsta shit you see up on the tv screen
But it ain't no cut, just actin live, niggas die
Drug related killers, switcher on time high
See real killers can be swept on
I'm kickin tales of the niggas who got crept on
(chorus)
(shit), kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(go nigga, police lookin and shit nigga)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(fuck you doing nigga, firin up a joint, motherfuckin...)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(fuck is wrong with you? )
(spice 1)
We chopped it up, my partner had some love
50 g's to creep on the niggas that tried to kill us up that fuckin club
25 are threat and 25 are for the killin
For that kind of money I'll have the blood up on the fuckin ceilin
Now the slaughter is about to begin
Mini 14's, six homies and some motherfuckin mack 10's
Infra-red, silencer, I'll silence ya, cut off ya p-g-a and a massacre
Everybody, cause can't no nigga diss me
Niggas you sent to the club, with some motherfuckin pussy (pussy)
I'm feelin, hit the hospital straight do they ass
I took em down to his basement and then I stabbed his ass
Screams jumpin the night, the nigga never heard I kill with a routin
Even got him for a couple of birds
So then I creep up into the i-c-u, I see you livin too long
Nigga you crept on, your life gone
(spice 1)
Yeah nigga, got some shit just for you
Special motherfuckin can catch shit you on, uncut herion nigga
Straighten your motherfuckin bays nigga
Yeah nigga, you like this shit huh nigga, suffer nigga
Suffer motherfucker, yeah, take a good dose of the shit, nigga
Yeah, yeah nigga you feelin it huh, can't breathe, what you can't breathe
Somethin wrong what, what, huh, huh, what, what, huh, huh, huh, what
Four years ago I was stuck on the grind
Slangin' crack 50 sacks straight 20's and dimes
Till I came with shit that got a muthafucka known
Coolin' on the corner with the cellular phone
Took a test to be a muthafuckin' g
And all the niggas came amazed at me
Since the age of 16 I been slangin' the crack
The fiends used to scream for my muthafuckin' sacks
I used to cut the lleyo down to the bone
But now I'm killin' niggas on the microphone
Sp-spice 1 kickin' shit to mass
A Hennessy lemon squeeze and bubble bath
You see that's the life that I lead
I put a slug in a nigga try to fuck with me
So step back move back niggas try to jack
But ain't no muthafuckin' love I put you on your back
Start some shit at the party first nigga to glance
I pull out my glock and make him piss in his pants
No shorts on a dove I'm tryna come above
They call me Spice 1 and ain't no muthafuckin' love
I said one to the two, two to two three
Put a slug in your ass for you to say g
The s to the p the I the c-e
You sucka ass niggas can't fuck with me
I rolls a gold Cherokee nothin like a Seville
And when you look up inside you see a nigga that's real
So if you see me cruisin' by keep your hands to your side
You might catch a slug if I'm on a hoo-ride
I said I first come I first served basis
Niggas catchin' slugs in a lot of strange places
One of a kind for my people's delight
And to you sucka ass niggas you just ain't right
Because you're snitchin' on your homies be sent up in the pen
And niggas wanna stick you if they see your ass again
You're hangin' on the ave you're chillin' with the crew
But niggas walk away and all the bullets hittin' you
I said one to the two, two to two three
Put a slug in your ass for you to say g
The s to the p the I the c-e
You sucka ass niggas can't fuck with me
I said one to the two, two to three
My dj xtra-large and g-n-u-t
We roll up in the place pointin' straps at your face
Tinted windows black hearse gold daytons straight lace
Let off rounds you fall down to the ground
You sucka ass nigga another dead clown
You're a 5 dollar boy and I'm a million dollar player
You's a sucka ass nigga I had to spray ya
You say you pack a nine and a nine is fine
But I'm blowin' out the back of your head from behind
I'm comin' from the sickest city around
Spittin' some gangsta shit the dirty bay is the town
So g-nut and if you're bigger or pack the tight figure
Shoot these haters with the strap that you got from that dead nigga
G-n-u-t in the place to be
Pimp straight up out a player's university
Every since kindergarden I acquired the knowledge
Didn't have no mail so I said 'fuck college!'
I'm brown-skinned comin' straight out the stack
And the game that I spit'll put your bitch on the back
I'm dressed to kill I love to style
I'm the mc you know hoe check my file
The big-lip nigga for your regard
500 Dollar spread for the credit card
I hit your town then I go back home
Break a bitch for her mail bought a Cadillac chrome
Deep in the cut for all you bitches delight
And if a nigga playa-hate he gon have to fight
Because when I grind I hits the strip
Every time I sell out I buy a brand-new zip
It don't take a lot to entertain'
And like my nigga Method Man I'ma bring the pain
You can't rock the shop if you high off hop
You gotta let a nigga know you'll never stop
And your game gotta make a lot of sense
.
Fuck these snitches!
Spoken:
"yeah, you know. cause all I'm here to do is watch my ass. know what
I'm sayin'? that ain't my dope, that's chico's dope.
You know what I'm sayin'?
So what type of witness protection program you got for me? "
Chorus:
You keep tellin' all these coppers
I'm gonna hurt you 'till you bleed
All these niggas in my city, we put snitches six feet deep
Tattle-tellin' in the jail and niggas yellin' out your name
Tell them po-po all your business get you caught up in the game
Fuck these snitches!
Verse 1:
We got your partner in there since you was at the crime
That's how they get you to squeal, them motherfucker's lyin'
Nigga, stick with the program and you gonna be all right
But if you tell them I did it, I'm stickin' your ass tonight
They sayin' "six people saw ya" but I ain't sayin'
Shit 'till I meet with my lawyer
Blowin' smoke up my ass cause if I have to blast
I'm mobbin' the fuck out tha murder scene with the hockey mask
Lookin' like jason while them cops is chasin' me
Behind the wheel buckin', facin' l-i-f-e
Hittin' corners bailin', fish tailin' to the left
I heard the motherfuckin' blast shatter out the back
They wanna screw me, do me and have me fucked up
Put a young g in the system and have me sucked up
In the prison block but I ain't goin' there
So if you tell on me nigga, you be my hoe in there
See I do dirt all up on my lonely cause niggas phoney
Givin' up the info on murders and snitchin' on they homies
Puttin' lead up in these loud mouth bitch niggas
So say what up to the motherfuckin' snitch killa
Chorus
Verse 2:
See, where I'm from motherfuckas live and let die
Snitch killa, the real nigga s-p-i
I'm droppin' shells on a bitch
See they do a lick with a nigga and get him tellin' and shit
I can't stand it when a nigga think he sick in the game
Tell everybody who be gafflin' for some bitches and fame
I'm gonna blast in the window, indo jack
Got me puttin' snitches up on they motherfuckin' back
Puttin' hollow up in your head, runnin' in your home
Leave these motherfuckers sleepin' with their house lights on
Finna kill this snitch ass nigga before my homie go to court
We tied him to the back of a motherfuckin' super sport
Doin' donuts with his ass tied to the back of the car
Bringin' them terror, the burier, coffin carrier
See niggas die when they testify
You better get your punk ass up there and straight lie
They caught your ass up in the hooptie with 3 ki's
Now you out on bail and all you gave 'em was 2 g's
You ain't playin' nobody, go get your vest nigga
Be on the look out for the motherfuckin' snitch killa
Chorus
Spoken:
"like I was sayin' mister ociffer. you know what i'm
Sayin'? I can tell you
Where he keep his dope. I can tell you where he stay.
I can tell you where
He get his braids done."
Verse 3:
Niggas be talkin' upon that straight killa
He ain't in jail cause he snitched on that other nigga
Now his freedom is gone and you can count on it
If you ever in quentin you gonna be tagged snitch
They gonna have to seperate the men from the women
A lot of snitches in the pen turn straight feminine
And get they ass took
See, only real niggas slide with us
You gonna be snitchin' motherfucker you can't ride with us
Because we sure to do some heavily incriminating shit
Like pullin' licks and pushin' chickens for the fuck of it
Ain't no tellin' in my crew cause everybody guilty of somethin'
That's why we wound up, we all dumpin'
And the nigga who don't blast, he get sucked and swallowed
Threw out the hooptie when it's still rollin'
He ain't dead yet but if he tattle on a nigga
He gotta tangle with this motherfuckin' snitch killa
Chorus
Spoken:
"ok now mister ociffer, now what it gonna be? you know
What I'm sayin'?
I gotta get up on outta here, know what I'm sayin. i
Need a house in the bahamas,
You know what I'm sayin', you know I got two kids. you
Know I just wanna be
Protected in this motherfucker. you know what i'm
Sayin'? can I get this on
Paper? it's like I was just tryin' to watch my ass.
You know what I'm sayin',
Like I was safe."
"no!"
"shit! damn! I just wanna be protected in this
Motherfucker. shit! I didn't
Plow!
Ba-da-ba-a-a-ah
Comin down now
Spice 1
Ya know
Jah man
Come again
Everybody wanna go to heaven
But don't nobody wanna die
Life's too sweet to pass by
Lookin at the hourglass, I
See how fast time fly
I keep a strong will to live
I be a old man with a lotta game to give
I'll make the kids do somethin more positive
Instead of bein like me, a thug or gee
Tryin to stay up out the penitentiary
I got a whole army, some r.i.p.
Some stuck in a cell, some out on bail
Some doin major fed time in jail
I'm lookin at the world with hungry eyes
Inner city full of jealousy and lies
Hopin that the Lord'll hear my cries
Help a young black male rise
Enemies pose as friends
Player never know when his life'll end
Can't trust too many, can't cross the game
Walk with my head down in the rain
Think about greed, some disease
Cause everybody rappin still gettin cheese
Some think about the pain that they inflict
And some don't think, just stack the chips
[CHORUS]
Everyone wan to go to heaven
But nobody wan to die
Mi say
Everyone want a million dollar
But nobody want to work
Everybody want a million
More jails, less schools for the children
Invest in a penitentiary
Makin money off niggas like you and me
My God, it's the turn of the century
I wonder what the game got in store for me
Will it be a lotta seeds, my gees be free
Or be six feet deep on the day of release?
I can't stand it, lost in the game again
Will I win? Nobody knows in the end
I keep strugglin, pullin on the game of life
Try to stay on my toes, up on the edge of knife
I'm wakin up from the nightmares, who cares?
God, I heard death comin up the stairs
I got the past still hauntin me
Still knowin how my enemies want me
You never know when it's time to go
The blind lead the blind
If you don't know the game, get left behind
No love, hold up, what you thinkin of?
Youngsters on the corner goin dub for dub
You can't tell em, cause ain't nobody payin em mo'
Lost in the thug life, gone for sho'
Too many young players six feet in the flo'
As another one goes as modern-day hero
[CHORUS]
To other rappers that rose out the concrete, stay strong
Have faith in God, it won't be too long, hold on
Never lose faith in dreams
Watch the next people, they canive and scheme
A cold world, ghetto kids born to die
Some fall in the game without a chance to fly
In too deep, can't escape the drama
Too much drama for a young player, young timer
Pushed in the game at the age of 12
Hangin on the block, all about the mail
It's hard livin, somebody gotta lace the young
Before they get enough rope to leave theyself hung
Hardcore livin in the projects (projects)
Hustlers schemin for the profit (profit)
Mo' cash comes in and go fast
Toe-tags, dead homies in bodybags
Where it stops, nobody knows
I'm paranoid, is these enemies or foes?
Can't call it, sleep with a open eye
This world'll make you laugh, it'll make you cry
Stay real, keep a strong mind and strive
Cause what it boils down to is stayin alive
Nigga strugglin, keep your eye on the game
And never stay the same, things always change
(chorus): 4x
Groupie ass
Bitch type of niggas can't fade me
They're callin' me a lunatic
But murder ain't crazy
(spice 1 - overlapping chorus)
Yeah, yeah, hahahha
Wassup nigga?
Don't look at me like y'all know who I am
Amerikkka's nightmare
Spice muthafuckin' 1
Nigga, young, black
You know I won't give a fuck
(verse 1):
Old school drop caddy five, six niggas
Rollin' up in my rearview
With they fingers up on them triggers
Come let's take a trip
And hop into some gangsta shit with me
13 caps for them niggas who wanna get with me
Get at me niggas empty enough clips at me
Wanna put some holes and some muthafuckin rips in me
But I don't give a fuck I just stay strapped
And be a soldier about that shit
When it comes to peelin' their caps nigga
So won't ya get your blast on
And if you miss me with your 13 shots
Nigga your ass's gone
Cause I'm gon hit you on that first shot
And then I ain't gon stop
Until some muthafuckas call the cops
Then i'll be 187 thousand like my song say
Cause you was fuckin' with this nigga on the wrong day
(chorus): 4x
(verse 2):
See I be raisin' them up off the block
With my ? ? ?
Quick to come with get in bust some caps in my city
I comes with much cloud
And whenever one nigga could take me out
Rollin' him up like levis cough him and stuff him
Key him like bean pies
And niggas be talkin' that shit
But yo ain't none of them runnin' up
I'm gunnin' up the next nigga is feelin' buck shots
I thought you niggas knew
I'm finna smoke that nigga boost of my 6 deuce
And when I gat that ass someone'll leave him lyin' there
Cryin' there the muthafucka's dyin' there
And mr. lawrence better have insurance
Cause i'ma g-a-gat that ass with the touriz
Rocka-bye baby goin' crazy
Punk muthafuckas like you can't fade me
Tryin' to squabb with the clip and the trigger
Ol' groupie ass bitch type of nigga
(chorus): 4x
Groupie ass bitch type of niggas can't fade me
Grabs my .45 and puts down my .380
I creep up on they ass tip-toe with the pump
Split a nigga down the middle like phillie blunt
I keeps my strap by my sides to keep niggas in check
And all my posse pack glock .9's uzi thangs and tecs
You see we rolls down the block 3 o'clock in the morning
Endo got us gone and strap mobile phones
And about 5 ki's in the back of the trunk
Niggas down ass fuck but we don't wanna funk
Cause, ahh, transportation is the shit we used to do
Had a whole shop dropped mobs spot and crew
W-a-with a ring on my muthafuckin' cellular
As I heard a nigga screamin': 'get the fuck out the car!'
Nigga let me get my chronic and my endo sacc
As my dj x-tralarge blew that bitch on his back
Runnin' up on some players so I had to figure
He was a groupie ass bitch type of nigga
(chorus with overlap):
Yeah
Whassup nigga?
Y'all muthafuckas ain't fadin' a real last g
Nigga
Peelin' cap for the muthafuckin' strive
Nigga you don't wanna fuck with this
You don't won't none of this
Step back nigga
Just listen
Watch muthafucka
Look at some real last niggas rip shit up
For '94
Punk ass nigga
Yeah
Yeah
Back again with some of that murder shit
Spiggedy one whippin' up on that ass for '94 and '95 bitch
Hahaha
What y'all niggas know about a real last g
Ha, I kicks gangsta shit daily
Beyoaaatch!!!
It's like root beer one of a kind
Spice 1 is up in the house with the niggata niggata nine
And the clip and the trigga
Muthafuckas try ta play me yet they callin' me they nigga
Should I get the AK and jump like Jack
Or should I just reanimate the muthafuckin' Fac?
My name is Spice 1, but I be comin' like I'm two
Or maybe three or four or just a muthafuckin' crew
Late night see a drive by drop Impala
The niggaz took cover and the bitches all holla
If you think it's sick then nigga just throw up
I'm quick ta bust a cap and leave your fuckin' dome toe up
'Cause livin' up in the bay is like a muthafuckin' zoo
Every nigga do whatever the fuck he gotta do
The muthafuckin' rhyme did the crime last century
Now it's on parole because my mouth's in penitentiary
But back to the ghetto you see just about it all
Rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
The shit it never stop because the nigga killed a cop
And now the cops are killin' the niggas twenty four around the clock
Around the block around the road in every ghetto
Muthafuckas wanna drop
So I'm livin' like the devil
With the underground pound, muder facul sound
So niggas that fuck around lay around
And before I end this rhyme I'd like to say
Peace to my muthafuckin' nine
The nine, the nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
Shootin' dice with some niggas that I didn't know
He pulled a nine when the double four hit the floe
I wonder why he'd wanna play me like a punk bitch
I thought he knew I was the one to let the nine click
I played his ass like Jesse James and shot him in the throat
I picked his tongue up out my mail, now I'm outty ho
I'm stressin' it's a fucked up world G
I think about the shit that I used to see
Niggas runnin' 'round with the street sweepers
Muthafuckas layin' dead loose change, beepers
Bitches screamin' about the niggaz gettin' fucked up
Fuck his bitch too, she was stuck up
One eight seven muthafucka that's my showcase
I'll load the clip and kill a whole muthafuckin' race
I'm stressed out like a muthafucka
Bitch got me for a twenty, damn clucka
Yeah, your right I'm livin' wrong G
And I never gave a fuck about a dope fiend family
I seen a dope fiend killed last week
Left a bloody base pipe in the street
They burnt the bitch up in the trunk over eighty dollars
Started drivin' around the hood and I can hear her holla
Smoke comin' from the trunk bitch burnin' up
Cops turnin' down the streets they was turnin' up
I'm hearin' shots ring out twelve o'clock at night
A car full of dead niggas in the midnight
Because it gave the cops a reason just toshoot 'em up
But now they tape the shit off, so yo suit 'em up
And before I end this rhyme I'd like ta say
Peace to my muthafuckin' nine
The nine, the nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The police was comin' I had to dump the body
'Cause like I said on the city streets I'm John Gotti
When it comes to the gangsta rap shit
I do a drive by murder your whole click
See I'm a rebel without a pulse
'Cause in my neighborhood you learn not to walk
Without a nine in your draws, it's like American Express
Because a lot of crazy niggas wanna spill your flesh
But some crazy jealous muthafuckas never sleep
I'm gettin' C B banner on the beep, beep, beep
Fill a, nigga to the rim like brim
Do a drive-by while I'm suckin' on a endo stem
Mix Hennessey with Thunderbird, gin and juice
I'm high as fuck, fuckin' around with one eight seven proof
Hard as a nickel but I'm quick as fuck to drop a dime
Because my boys got a nigga back prime time
Rata tata tat tat
Any bitch wanna squab it's like that
'Cause I ain't goin' out like a fag
Got the nigga for a ounce and a jag
Straight trip and pop the clip
Now I'm gettin' rich off his sip
Pick up my boys on the block and it's on
Slangin' dope by the drug free zone
Straight gangsta mack
Keyes over keyes over g's I stack
So when you step, step with caution
'Cause a nine to your throat'll have ya coughin'
The S P I C E, in a rage with a gauge gettin' P A I D
I ain't goin' out, fuck Mickey D's
I'd rather pimp hoes and clock g's
'Cause that's what a real nigga do to make a livin'
The talent of pimp was naturally given'
And before I end this rhyme I'd like to say
Peace to my muthafuckin' nine
Yeah
I wanna say peace to my other muthafuckin' nine
Yeah, Ant mutha fuckin' ba ba booga booga muthafuckin' Banks
I wanna say what up to my nigga G muthafuckin' mzz Nut, yeah
I wanna say what up to that girl Shorty muthafuckin' B
In the muthafuckin' house, and my muthafuckin' DJ
Xtra mutha fuckin' large go on with your big ass, heh heh
Yeah, my nigga, MC muthafuckin' Ant
Kickin' the funky shit with Spice muthafuckin' 1
.
[Incomprehensible], killerfornia, biatch
Hustlers, players, gangstas, ballers, pimps, players
All of those shit, I see all that shit
You know, killerfornia, blow, blow
I'm hell bound, niggas wanna kill me in my sleep in killerfornia
Where the murderers be ambitious to creep
And leave you six feet, sleep with the sharks in the Bay
I'm out the yea where they back up shit they talk with AK's
Niggas in L.A. trigger fingers itchy to spray
Call it the golden state but niggas be rich off the game
You get your cash on, the Crips and Bloods be bangin'
Nigga, get your mash on, dre-lock them Uzi, we sayin'
Leavin' your brains hangin', you'll get caught up in the cross fire
'Cause you'll be dog meat, lose your life in the jungle
Niggas is savages, thugged out and it's hard to be humble
When niggas ride up gaffle your shit and then leave you tired up
Money and murder, I pop a sherm stick
Niggas tend to bring the drama when I bury your dick
But I'm hardcore, ready to kill shit up and war
Wonder what else this motherfuckin' state got in store
So much drama in northern California
('Cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by)
Such a scandalous day but I love the place
(That's why I duck when they fly by)
So much drama in southern California
('Cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by)
Such a scandalous place, had your smile in your face
(That's why I duck when they fly by)
From Sacramento to San Diego, from Compton to the Oakland city
Locked up and thugged out, killer's ready to ride with me
Stackin' caps player pieces, Rolexes and saggy pants
Just poppin' collars drunk as hell off Hennessey
Smokin' up Grams as ounces the purple [Incomprehensible]
Weed or straight up chronic, niggas still out to get paid
Fuck the world, I wanna die high, it's sunshine in killa kali
But still the bullets fly, palm trees and sandy beaches
But niggas stay strapped with heaters
Born sinnin' and ready for drama that's how they leave us
500's and Lexi coupes, niggas roll up with they troops
Ballers be flashin' loot, if you gon' jack that nigga be ready to shoot
And bring the pain 'cause it ain't no comin' back in killerfornia
Fuck with the wrong niggas, they turn and blast on ya
Dump executional style and leave your ass goner
Still do my dirt all by my motherfuckin' lone in killerfornia
So much drama in northern California
('Cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by)
Such a scandalous day but I love the place
(That's why I duck when they fly by)
So much drama in southern California
('Cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by)
Such a scandalous place, had your smile in your face
(That's why I duck when they fly by)
No self-defense laws, bullet proof vests is illegal
But you can go to the gun sto' and purchase yourself a desert eagle
All of my homies is felons, some even died in my face
Some niggas still ridin' around with a whole trunk full of yea
Frisco to Fresno niggas do dirt and ride with their head low
Indictments on mob style tactic murder for cash flow
Cause jail bars, gangstas and ghetto stars
Niggas don't give a fuck, bullet wounds and stab scars
Hell of players and pimps, hustlers and gangstas with limps
Snitches that disappeared into thin motherfuckin' air
Haters be dreamin', schemin' to catch ya slippin'
Just to get to dippin' after midnight AK's spittin'
See the fire from the barrel standin' down the block
I got a flock of desert eagle fifty cal shots
Can't let these sucka ass niggas put one in my dome
When I'm sittin' at home with a whole arsenal of my own in killerfornia
So much drama in northern California
('Cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by)
Such a scandalous day but I love the place
(That's why I duck when they fly by)
So much drama in southern California
('Cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by)
Such a scandalous place had your smile in your face
(That's why I duck when they fly by)
So much drama in northern California
Such a scandalous day but I love the place
So much drama in southern California
Such a scandalous place, had your smile in your face
So much drama in northern California
Such a scandalous day but I love the place
So much drama in southern California
Spice heres go them niggas yo
Hit that shit, hit that shit
We all niggaz going down where the fuck ya all going down
Damn ain't this a bitch ya all got me fucked up
On this ol' playa haten ass shit
Know what I'm sayin'? Understand me?
When I was broke you all niggaz didn't give a fuck
If I was pissin' on myself, or shittin' off tha Bay Bridge, nigga
Now you in my muthafuckin' mix talkin' that ol' crazy shit
That's alright 'cuz I'm gonna bust a cap in that ass
Me and Pac goin' let you know about
That ol' playa haten ass shit though
Ya see these jealous muthafuckaz
That be playin' me G
Like a sucka ass nigga see
That ain't feeling me
It ain't easy
To kill a G
A muthafuckin' playa
From tha F, A to tha C
Back stabbers in tha muthafuckin' place
Smilin' in my face
I got my hand on my gun
'Cuz they got me on tha run
Spice muthafuckin' one
I'm for leavin' bodies numb
I'm a G muthafucker
Can't you see
I'm a G
Rollin' deep
With my phat fo-fo Uzi
I comes with a big phat gat
And hollow point clip
And quick to be a soldier by my shit
So nigga don't try no mo' shit
No ho shit 'cuz when I was broke
Nigga didn't give a fuck
About my statics
Now that I'm at this
I'm locked out and livin' lavish
So fuck tha gun control about ta bust a cap nigga
'Cuz tha jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Now niggaz know that tha jealous got me strapped
Stepping close to the edge
I got tha cops and tha feds on my back
And there's no way that I'm giving up
I rather bury you bitches
'Cuz ain't no to marks gonna worry my riches
If I catch yo ass in traffic
(Humm)
You betta pull for ya pistol an open fire
Or get blasted
(Boo Yahh)
I'll be damned if I drop
It don't stop
I'm boxin' muthafuckaz with my glock
A skinny ass Neva had a penny ass nigga
I figure my Mashfurd pump will show them punks who's bigger
(Blah)
And even if I did fall, I'll still ball
I'm bustin' muthafuckers with my back against the wall
Till these jealous ass bitches kill me
I'll be thugin' like a muthafucker
Nigga feel me
And ain't no time for mistakes
So homies watch ya back
'Cuz these jealous ass tricks got me strapped
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Homie ya know if I don't be runnin' with my strap
Then I might get blasted
Get blasted or blast
That's how I'm livin'
So I blast and blast the bastard
I can't be worried about no jail time
'Cuz niggaz they tryin' ta take my head
I can't have shit if a nigga dead
So I bust back
And break the bitch niggaz off propa
with a four-four take nine a chopper
And try and decapitate a niggaz arms from with his shoulders
These jealous niggaz don't know they fuckin' around with a soldier
I don't be slippin'
So nigga don't wait for me ta fall
And if I got enough
A hallow tip will smoke 'em all, y'all
Envious niggaz prepare to fly off ya feet
'Cuz I'm comin' with some muthafuckin' heat
Playa, so keep ya aim straight
And hit a nigga on tha first shot
'Cuz I'm a be tryin' ta make your muthafuckin' heart stop
And don't be screamin' out for your family bitch
'Cuz it was your choice
That we jump into this gangsta shit
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
I keep my hand on my gun 'cuz they got me on the run
Jealous got me strapped
Hey yo, Spice, what's goin' on, man?
I see five-O over there, is that five-O?
Same muthafuckas that beat my partner down last week
But I ain't trippin', I got this 187 Proof by my side
It's finna be on, is that right? Yeah
But where you stayin' at, man, what's goin' on?
Same muthafuckin' neighborhood, man
Just tryin' to get this shit off the ground
This rap thing, you know? Yeah, I heard that shit, man
Let them niggas know what time it is, yeah, check it
I like to walk around my hood, smokin' dank a lot
I see some brothers in the trees, is they slingin' rocks?
Runnin' through a broken-down wooden fence
A nigga didn't have brains 'cause he smoked sinse
Or sess, or whatever you wanna call it, he got the task on his ass
Better haul it, fiends suckin' up the crack in the backyard
Dropped a pebble on the ground, now he's lookin' hard
Will he keep searchin' or will he cease and just forget the hit?
Or pull a jack move and let the nine click, I'm in the cut, late night
About 12 O'clock, I see some brothers bustin' caps in a parking lot
There go my homies rollin' up in a black 'Vette
Nothin' but the money for the paycheck
"Another day, another dead up in the alleyway"
That's what the boys in the Bay up in Cali say
The California life, task in the palm trees
Brothers be clockin' G's, slingin' KI's up in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
In my, in my, in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Funk, is a part of my life
It's the sound of the gangster Spice
Warning, check out the blast of a shotgun
Nine muthafuckin' millimeter, have one or two or three or four
'Cause every brother in my hood is hardcore
Boom-boom to the death of a cop, pop-pop-pop, see another one drop
Crazy-ass nigga off the peppermint schnapps
And now you wonder why young niggas sling hop?
Never woulda thought I'd be a dealer of dope
Niggas slingin' and bangin' and breakin' necks and throats
The spot, it was poppin', but yet the fuzz kept ridin' my jock
Tick-tock, I watch the clock, they flock
See a undercover cop raise off the block
That's how it is in the game of slingin' rocks
'Cause on the TV they make it look real good
But Mr. Rogers ain't got shit on my niggas up in the neighborhood
In my neighborhood
In my, in my, in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
Welcome to the ghetto, although I call it my neighborhood
Some people get out, but some people stay for good
I see a dopefiend yellin' he's a O.G.
He scratched his head and started starin' like he knows me
I say, "What up, old man, I seen your face before"
It was my homie's pops, shirt dirty, pants tore
He had a 40 in his hand, left a little swallow
He said, "Young-ass nigga," and then he threw the bottle
I ducked down, and I had to duck real fast
Stepped two feet back, and then I banked his ass
I started kickin' and stompin' my nigga's brains out
I heard a bitch yell "Freeze" and runnin' out the house
It was his wife, and the bitch started bustin' at me
I can't believe this shit, this bitch is trigger-happy
Pull out my nine, bust the bitch in the left titty
That's how it is in a burned-out dopefiend city
And now you're sayin' I'm the nigga up to no good
If gives a fuck if you're Bush, you get jacked up in my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
In my, in my, in my neighborhood
Worldwide, immortalized
Immortalized, worldwide
Worldwide, immortalized
Worldwide, worldwide, immortalized
Worldwide, immortalized
Smokin' endo with my killaz, we ride
Heat on the side, hella drama niggas die
In crossfire, can't let 'em slide
See the rigor mortis set in his eyes
Nigga surprise, you was dumped on by some G's on the rise
It shocked yo ass when I pulled out the chrome
I was putting niggas in the tank before this rap shit came along
Immortalized, through this thug shit that niggas are spittin'
A chocolate philly, a bag of sticky green and a game to spit
We on the mash, put a slug in niggas stoppin' my cash
Mothafuckas, wanna see me six feet in the grave
Thinking, I won't last
But I'm a soldier, I told you bitches, know what to fuck
The only way I'm fallin', is slippin' on one of you nigga's blood
I'm in this shit for life and when my casket drop
Then, my thug presence be immortalized, like Biggie and Pac
Hear my shit thump in nigga's trunks for blocks and blocks
Immortal thug, shit'll never stop, immortalized
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
One thug to the niggas, like eazy soldiers who put a dent in the game
It ain't the same, candy coated niggas claiming the fame
It's not that my brain, this thug shit'll drive a nigga insane
Diamond links and chains, with infra red we aim
Niggas loced up for the cash, when the real G's came
T-t-thuggin' laced up in my veins, I can't be changed
Immortalized, like dead presidents with they faces on rocks
Ebonic sleazy is the language for the game that we chop
Green leaves, canibus satives and Krystal
Fifty G's, making niggas bleed with pistols
Put it down 'cuz it ain't no time for fuckin' around
If a nigga wants to see six figures, enough, no less we platinum bound
Remember me, the man with the fifty cal in my hand
Coming more savage than Tarzan, hear what I'm saying?
Niggas picking up on my casket but I ain't sweatin' you haters
'Cause if it wasn't for bitch ass niggas, it wouldn't be real players
Represent to the fullest, at the same time dodging bullets
This mob shit ain't easy, nigga, but somebody got to do it
Immortalized, immortalized
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
Never die just multiply, thug niggas, immortalized
Energize like them batteries, caught up in the mob life
Niggas be talking that crazy shit, when they don't know
What the fuck they sayin', making money off rap music
When you was in elementary playin'
It's all real, shoot back at niggas, shooting to kill
Well, if it's fuck my life, it's fuck yo life, go to war with steel
If you niggas ain't feeling me, fuck yo clique and yo hood
It's Bossalini straight soldier, never went Hollywood
Always riding through the streets, hitting corners with felons
In a bucket or a benzo, when we blast it ain't no tellin'
It's west side till my life expire
Mob music till the wheels fall off, mothafucker, we all ride
Put the fire to the endo, sip on the Henn
'Cause you will never see a bad guy like this one again
Put it on you niggas, with no mask on
Straight smash, if it wasn't for rappin', I'd be jackin', gettin' my blast on
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
Eternal mobbin' immortalized, immortalized, worldwide, worldwide
I can't believe these j-j-jealous niggas don't wanna s-s-see me rise
Thuggin' in the caddy t-t-they got me t-t-thuggin' worldwide
.
[Intro:]
Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
BLAOW! Y'know
I'm sure all you hustlers out there know
every rose got its thorns
Aha-ha
You know I gotta lil' some some
y'all probably dobe been thru before
If you're a real hustler, then you know somethin about dis
Peep game!
What you know about a, good girl gone bad, aha
I'ma lace you up wit somethin
I gave a nigga 8 G's to flip a half of thangs
Slang him for 13 in St.Louis, we about the lucci
Bring the 13 back and add 500 to the pot
Get a ho from the Mexican homey, set up shop
Fly the friendly skies, 30 G's between her thighs
We can doublelise, be leavin me paralysed
I was puffin on a Cuban cigar, model style
and iced down during the draught season, ghetto smilin
In the back of my brain, my cock is goin insane
Sayin "Chico, why you chucked the bitch in the game?"
but she ain't new to this, she done her times befo'
Kick back and close my eyes, thought about her no mo'
I'm on a flight to Chicago, witta fine ho
to kick start my cargo and die slow
If the good girl goes bad, I'd hate to do it
but she's sleepin in the bodybag, toe tagged
The fellas sleep on the plane, lookin at her breasts
dreamin of sex and in a Lex, bodies soakin wet
lickin the sweat from off the chest, what's next?
Four niggas run up with fully Teks, and tried to get me wet
Shit blacked out and I woke up, they sent her to Midway
Where we was sposed to slang the YAY!
As she got off the plane looked at her ass kinda sad
Hope the girl don't go bad
[Chorus:]
If the good girl goes bad
If the good girl goes bad
If the good girl goes bad
Cos bitches even gaffle boss ballers for cash
If the good girl goes bad
If the good girl goes bad
If the good girl goes bad
I'm tryin ta get things I never had
We arrived at the Court about a quarter-to-8
She said she wanna go and eat some lobster and steak
I said "Hold on baby, before we continue
you know that's the little fuckin side of the menu"
She said "I got my own money, I'm just playin, loosen up
I came to handle business, I don't come here to fuck"
Anyway, where your fuck's at? When they comin?
In a cue-ball 5, pulled up a tan woman
wit some niggas in the back of the car, another followed
Pulled out the Hennessey bottle and took a swallow
"Wait a minute bitch, I ain't gettin in there"
She said "I know, they came to make sure we're here"
We need to find a telly, put some food up in our belly
Take a shower and shit, call them fools when we're ready
In the low-key, we're in the cars switchin fo' lanes
Wit the windows tinted bout to go and slang me a thang
She was lookin at herself in the mirror wit lipstick
I'm thinkin to myself "30 G's wit one kick"
Got my mind on my money, all about the cash
Hope the girl don't go bad
[Chorus]
They hit the hotel lobby about 10:26 (26)
I told baby doll to go and give em the kicks (Give em the kicks)
I shoulda went wit her, I knew somethin was fishy
Gave them niggas straight flour and came back to kill me
Damn bitch, you did WHAT? She smirked and laughed
and said "Nigga, I'm the Fed", bitch pulled out a badge
Said "Come and go with me", ho you must be loco
Baby talkin bout let's go to Acapulco
I was down for this shit she hit me with
Knowin she the Feds and all, wit her hands on my balls
Started huggin and kissin, even though she the Feds
Put my hand on her ass, she caught a slug in her ear
WHAT THE FUCK? They shot the bitch in the dome
I fell to the floor, pulled out the shotty chrome
Bustin at niggas, makin sure I get home (BLAOW!)
Caught up in mo' gangsta shit and I'm all alone
Tryin to smob out, wit the yay and the cash
Fools screamin out "Nigga, we gon' kill your ass"
Pulled the strap on the chauffer, jacked a limousine
Do what I gotta do to flee from the scene
[Chorus:]
The good girl went bad
The good girl went bad
The good girl went bad
Cos bitches even gaffle boss ballers for cash
The good girl went bad
My good girl went bad
The good girl went bad
I'm tryin ta get things I never had
[Outro:]
She went bad
I thought it was all good though
Game'll switch up on you quick, baby........
But I'm sure all you real hustlers out there know what I'm talkin
BOUT......
Y'know, SPeezy 8's in the house, Bossalini forever
[ verse 1 ]
Murder, murder, murder muthafuckas
Yeah, I'm short, but my boys cause ruckus
It's the nigga that's icey like a popsicle
It's like the jail when it comes to clockin every nickel
You want static with the fac, bring that ass on
Tec-9 to the dome, nigga, live in traum'
I gotta get on the muthafuckin grind
Find a spot in the bushes for my nine
Cause niggas don't sleep on the spot
And if you do, you be the first to get got
So don't get caught on the slip
Pack a double m or a pistol grip
Robbin muthafuckas to stay alive
Cause in the ghetto only the strong survive
And o.g.'s, they can tell when the task hit
New jacks try to run and get they ass split
And a nine ain't shootin blanks
It's the cop who had a fucked up day and a little drink
Get a thrill for a kill, a trigger to a nigga
The feel of the black steel make him quiver
I got love for my jammie, it's a damn shame
But I ain't the one to get fucked in the game
Fucked in the game
[ verse 2 ]
A to the muthafuckin z
So close your eyes, grip your dick and count to three
If my dome is tried to fuck
I drag your ass through a alley and chop you up
I ain't takin no shorts, gee
I kill your dog and your baby and your muthafuckin family
Let spice hold the double m
I fuck around and go nuts and shoot up her and him
Cause it ain't no thang to let my dick hang
Gunshot bang, had to fuck him up, mayn
So now I'm watchin every nigga with a hawk eye
Put on a wig just like them homies doin walk-by
I think I need to see the wiz cause I'm heartless
Leave a lotta muthafuckas headless
Cap-cap-cap
Leave a nigga brains pulsatin in his lap
You get a hole in your chest without the vest
It's like messy marvin, leave a mess
Another black-ass nigga with a glock in his drawers
Gettin paid off the muthafuckin ashpalt
So if you wanna step to a nigga though
I'm pluggin muthafuckas up like a stereo
I got love for my jammie, it's a damn shame
But I ain't the one to get fucked in the game
Fucked in the game
I ain't the one
[ verse 3 ]
Boom-boom to the head, now your body numb
Put a hot one up in that ass, that's where I'm comin from
12 o'clock at night, nigga, up in the cut
Slingin caine and twump sacks, so what the fuck?
Livin like a muthafuckin sewer rat
Put away the nine, got a newer gat
Put the beam on a muthafucka fo'head
Emptied up the goddamn clip and left mo' dead
4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Got 5 caps left, 5 niggas got 8
To the dome, to the muthafuckin dome
Duck quick as fuck when I reach for the chrome
I got the vest, I got the vest
But he didn't get to it 'fore the slug hit his chest
Smokin muthafuckas up like doja
A nigga that's crazy and dyin to explode ya
187 up in the house, can you fuck with it?
It's like a car that crashed, so buckle up with it
Hot bullets make a nigga fry
A good night for a muthafuckin walk-by
Like bbd give me the gat and i'ma do ya
Like a hooker on a saturday night I'm quick to screw ya
Cause you the pussy waitin to get fucked by the fucker
Servin lemonheads to the cluckers
I got love for my jammie, it's a damn shame
But I ain't the one to get fucked in the game
Fucked in the game
Yeah
All y'all niggas out there in the muthafuckin spot
Y'all better watch y'all back
Niggas ain't bullshittin in '92
Ay bwoy, ay, this is... this is...
187, the 187, the (chill man) 187
The 187, the 187, the 187 (187)
The 187, the 187, the bloaw! (jump up in the house man, chill man)
187, the 187, (faces of death man) the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187 (what you know about faces of death man? )
The 187, the bloaw!
(*the 187 repeats in background then jamaican singing*)
(spice 1)
(born to kill), reign shit goes on right here, reign shit player
Chill man, chill, walk about, walk about the (casket)
Serious motherfucker balls, spit my dime, fuck the sidewalk man
James bridge just blowin down motherfuckin train man
(casket), real type shit man, huh, huh, yeah man (silence of a dead man body...)
Watch them die over the drug and the white bitch man, the white bandit
Watch them die over the cocaine (*choke*) faces of death man
In the ghetto, projects what ever you want to call it
We all the same man, we all in the same shit (s-p-i-c-e) word-a
We say the 187, the 187 (jealousy got me strapped) callin the murder
The 187, the 187 is in the fire (nigga)
(spice 1)
(east bay gangsta) east bay gangsta man, kill a rat
Kick that gangsta shit man word up (crazy)
Motherfuckin killer, in this...
Me say the 187, the 187, the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187, the bloaw!
(spice 1)
Murder from the mind of a sick nigga
Thinkin bodies, dirty money, bloody cocaine and tech clips
I play with pistol grips, dead niggas and lolly tips
Suicidal sick shit, a psychopathic lunatic
Caught up in murder man, dirty up in this dead fool
Faces of death, hog my dreams out of drains fools
Pullin pistols, tellin niggas to get the fuck back
I'm regulatin shit, there's money up on my dope track
See I'm a soldier in this game, ain't nothin strange
Got a nigga lyin on the floor with half of his fuckin brains
Murder and crazy it's just a part of the game
Niggas won't kill ya, just don't fuck with their caine
Mack 10 silencer all ya heard was screams (ahhhhhh!!!)
All I seen was the gleams from the infra-red beams
Another motherfuckin walk-by in your hood
Better pack two clips up on your hips and it's all good
That nigga death, he got more faces than a motherfucker
So don't be shocked if you're naked, bleedin in your gutter, niggas
Ay bwoy, ay this is... in this mother...
Faces of death is an way gone past
Fuck up all of your hoes, all up in your bed, in your bed
Faces of death is an way gone...
Fuck all of your hoes, all in your bed, this is... in your bed, in this...
Faces of death away, fuck up all your hoes all in your bed, in your bed
Faces of death is an way gone... (all right)
Fuck up all your hoes in your bed (twilight zone to 1999 yet, spice 1)
Don't you ever... in your bed
East bay gangsta, gangsta hoe, ooh (well all right, can you hang? )
Can you motherfuckers hang, I mean slang them thangs as they go?
Well, all right, hoe, hoe, hoe, well I'm wrong
Say no, sing a sad song ohh, cause a,
Cause a hoe's are gon' lay on, we all gon' hash one day
Well all right on, uh sayer, sprayer, east bay, well on willie
Mother pimp in the game, 187 faculty thang hey, well all right
Uh, bosko whassup nigga, where that chicken at?
Where that chicken at nigga, whassup spice?
Yeah, this is Speezie Ace Black Bossalini
Fetty Chico, Shiznilty
I just wanna say I got love for all you haters out there
?Cause if it wasn't for y'all, we wouldn't be real players
High, high, high, high, come on
High, high, high, high, come on
High, high, high
We're comin' in group with mob tactics and game
Ghetto soldiers when we step on the scene
Flossin' diamonds, flashin' red beams
My squad like the SWAT team
Security areas scopin', I'm with the Fourteen by any means
Cream rules everythin?, money is power
Rather die like a soldier than live my life as a coward
How many players spit the real hits?
How many ballers you know that you makin' scrill with?
Haters be actin' like the game is gone
But they ain't open they eyes
I've been spinnin' Dead Presidents since they was alive
It's like Newport to G.P.C.
Generic haters get smoked quick up because they cheap
We yay deep
Like a shark I pull you under the water
Get you caught up in some thug shh
Steady mobbin' and stackin' chips in the dirty Bay
Suit angles and hittin' switches, thugs ain't your average
Marks just give up all they cabbage
See the big fish eat up the guppies
It's like real big dogs to little pound puppies
22 to a 50 cal got 'em curious
But my style was a problem child
Robbin' banks when I was juvenile
I told my PO I wouldn't get no drama
But if they try to take my life I'm dumpin', that's on my momma
And my little girl, the world is pre-timers
Waitin' for a player like me to get behind her high powered
High, high, high, high powered
(Yeah playboy, real players lovin' to ball)
High, high, high, high powered
(Natural born riders)
High, high, high, high powered
(From the womb to the tomb)
High, high, high, high powered
(We're real about this, we at this)
High, high, high, high powered
(?Immortalized?, high powered for life)
High, high, high, high powered
(We don't die, we multiply, thugs)
High, high, high, high powered
(Energized like them batteries, down here for this mob life)
High, high, high, high powered
(Move with thugs)
My life is all women and money but the money come over women
I'm a worldwide self-made mob figure
Ain't no room for suckers duckin' the undercovers
Keep my strap on the side for the others that hate to love us
Wanna be us, but they can't see us
From a womb to the tomb, I'm th-a-th-a-thugged out as a fiend is
Born sinnin' in a world of yay dealers
Pretty women dickin' in us niggas twirkin' off bomb and liquor
Hit the front page of ?St. Louis Times?
High speed in Westside, patna
Felons committin' felonies and got the ATF all on my jock
Bitches cussin' back and smilin' will never stop
We gotta duck, see I'm callin' 4 or 5 different ghetto names
Bossalini, Fetty Chico, Shiznilty, Ebonic Slang
Sported a rim since a BG original Bossalini
I'm tatted up thugged out bulletproofed wearin' a beanie
Where the Westside at? Where the Eastside at?
Where the North, where the South, where the Westside at?
We're 50 caliber players, mo' fools is 22's
Murder next to my marrow, killin' up streets with the blues
Bossalini, Fetty Chico, been around since '89
Steady 9, technism, thuggism from the mind
To the suckers who ain't knowin?, that's just too damned bad
I'm from the killa Cali, Westside
Where we ridin' for cash, I'm high powered
High, high, high, high powered
(Yeah, they tryin? to kick the real thugs out the ghetto, they want to)
High, high, high, high powered
([Incomprehensible] ya smell me? They ain't gon? win)
High, high, high, high powered
(They can't win, we're ridin' forever, they can't win)
High, high, high, high powered
(Patna, they just can't win, we high powered)
High, high, high, high powered
(You ain't nothin? but high cowards, it's 1999)
High, high, high, high powered
(Peep Speezie Ace Black Bossalini)
High, high, high, high powered
(Fetty Chico, Shiznilty, ?Immortalized?)
High, high, high, high powered
Powered, powered, powered
Powered, powered, powered
High, high, high, high powered
High, high, high, high powered
High, high, high, high powered
High, high, high, high powered
High, high, high, high powered
High, high, high, high powered
High, high, high, high powered
Yeah, play times over mutha phuckaz
Spice 1's defiantly in mutha phuckin' effect
You know what I'm saying?
Bringing it to all you bitch ass niggaz
So raise up and recognize
And understand that this brother is hard to kill
I'm running this niggaz off their block
Taking their shit kicking it to the bitches
People can't lift off your spot
I'm leaving your shit all up in stitches
Nigga, bullets go through the door
I'll shoot you and that ho
Got a cap for each nigga
Fucking with my cash flow
Pid cap, be love cap pid
Because in the neighborhood 'cause still kill at will
Gotta keep on my pistol on tight, slanging sugar delite
That Shina white got these niggaz killing each other tonight
Sometimes a turf is like a war zone, or even Vietnam
Not at the movies but you still see the died come
And a nigga catch a slug, caps' be pulled for fun foo
You got to watch your shit before we pull a ak on your own blood
See niggaz will stick you for your cash
That's when they enter the t-shirt contest to super soak their ass
So Method Man show these niggaz the deal
Let these mutha phuckaz know that your hard to kill
Who dat nigga?
You on with me with the super fly Methtical nigga
Who want to die?
For year nigga
Wow, even try to test sides
Challenger your the bird with my 45 cabolar
Can it be that this is the S.P.I.C.E. 1
And the method mutha phucka with the guns blazing?
You trail, my god, its amazing
Where your punk at?
Nightmares like Wes Craven
The bigger the critter, the harder to pull the trigga
I'll send your ass back to the dark side nigga
Your a snake, I've seen you sliver, so I deliver with death
We'll throw your punk ass in the river
On the battle ship I'm the captain
Beat that ass bloody as I send it to the camp
Tical
S.P.I.C.E. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah
S.P.I.C.E. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah
S.P.I.C.E. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah
Blah, these mutha phuckaz nutz if you want to murder me
Harder to kill than your average mutha phuckin' G
Rollz with the Uzi with that shit that will make your body drop
'Cause if your shot, tic toc and you don't stop
Nigga, down for my strap niggaz on their back
No rat-tat-tat so it's on the map
Died come again, coming straight out of my jaws
Got these niggaz screaming out paws
Pistol grip and breaking out their jaws
Yeah, so you don't want to fuck with me
Many niggaz out there to go nuts with me
And even on your block smoke them like a fucked up bell
Can't be caught by no Po-Po's, can't be put in no slammer
I don't be fucking with no snitches, ain't no body going to tell
Leave your dick in the dirt, and yo momma as well
New York to Cali niggaz are hard to kill, shit is too real
Your a ignorant mutha fucka if your not riding with your steal
S.P.I.C.E. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah
S.P.I.C.E. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah
S.P.I.C.E. coming from the bay area, bay area, puffing carea
S.P.I.C.E. coming from the bay area, bay area, puffing carea
1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7
1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7, 1 8 7
Capping your ass for the 94, what you know?
Grab your glock
Blah, me burst out first 'Mon
Yeah nigga
Muthafuckin east bay gangster
Back in your muthafuckin face
Rollin in my muthafuckin chicken coupe
Muthafuckin black-on-black caddy
Triple gold d's and shit
Spice muthafuckin one knowmsayin
Straight mobbin
Four chickens in a coop
Make a nigga wanna shoop
Colonel sanders ain't poppin, droppin
Big fat baby huey, ki's they can purchase
Got the whole hood ballin, nigga, fuck churches
Fools in the city turn the fuck up dead
Cos I'm servin more chickens than foghorn leg
Feds wanna know where a nigga reside
Cos the nuggets I'm sellin ain't kentucky fried
See, I boil it to a certain degree
Sometimes a nigga even sellin quarter pounders with cheese
But it ain't mcdonald's or burger king
Cos muthafuckas goin under gettin caught with hot wings
Ba-da-ba-ba slingin that lleyo
Them feds don't play, hoe
Say no if they ask you if you seen
A young nigga wearin braids slinig birds out a pinto
Smokin indo talkin to my hitman
Put your ass six feet under like quicksand
Get some slugs and a golden shower
Got the muthafuckin cocaine, money and power
Takes a lickin and keeps on tickin, movin, stickin
Fuckin round with the funky chicken
Straight believin in flake from s-p-i
Never gettin high off your own supply
The world was a big fat vagina
Waitin for a nigga like me to get behind her
See, the ballers and the clockers know me so well
Servin my muthafuckin ki's outta cheap motels
Cookin chickens in the kitchen to smoked-out hoes
Collect the shit in my lungs, collect the shit in my nose
See, let a real nigga tell it
I seen niggas swallow they lley, shit it out and still sell it
Keep the hustle goin strong each day
My little homie larry swallowed five dubs and passed away
Chickens in my drawers collectin them funds
Can't wear boxer shorts, gotta wear dun-dun-dun-dun's
Infrared cos niggas try to jack
See I'm sellin chickens and they gettin chicken scratch
There ain't no match for this killin-ass baller
Call a shot like at&t; and touch all of y'all
I'm countin chickens in my sleep
I used to count sheep
But the chickens give me heap, so catch the tweak
The fuck off, I love it when my stack thicken
Yeah, fuckin round with the funky chicken
Straight believin in flake from s-p-i
Never gettin high off your own supply
Clockers walk around the track pickin doves like bird seed
Mix a little crack with some dirt weed
But I mob in my chicken coupe sittin on triple gold
With just today twenty chicken sold
And niggas love me cos I'm straight 205
And when I stay alive niggas put scrilla out for my life
You put a hit out on me, I put one out on you
You wanna murder who? slugs full of dirt for you
The underground villain, chicken seller
Slingin birds out the trunk, a 95 goodfella
Stayin under from these crooked-ass federalies
And leavin niggas who don't pay me shot up in the alley
Murderin swift and I'm quick up out the scenery
Showin you niggas what my scrilla really mean to me
Cos I'm addicted to the lley slingin chickens
Got me slingin in the shower, two birds every four hours
Watch my ass and I'm on another mail mission
Finna serve some more of that funky chicken
Yeah you know what I'm sayin
Straight mobbin and shit
About 30 ki's in the muthafuckin trunk
Niggas know what time it is
Knowmsayin
Yeah, you gotta watch your muthafuckin shit
Niggas will try to get you for your caine, nigga
You know the rules, nigga
Yeah, never understimate the other muthafucka's greed
Straight game
Yeah
And when you're rollin in your muthafuckin drop
Or whatever you're ridin in
Nigga, don't have the music up too goddamn loud
Cos muthafuckas'll ride up on you and straight
Shoot you in your muthfafuckin head and drag you up out your shit
They don't give a fuck if you're strapped or not, nigga
This lley game ain't no muthafuckin joke
Yeah
Just get in funk behind them chickens
Straight uncut peruvian flavor
Cookin chickens in the kitchen, nigga, like shake 'n bake
Call me chef ? ? ?
Smellin' stale fresh out the county jail coppers gave me hell in a cell
But now its Mo' Murder to make mail
They thought my heart was playin' life at a different pitch
But I stick to the scrip dump a snitch in a ditch
It's '94 I came to be fuckin' around
Paranoia of a jack so I'm quick to draw down
The only way I gets my mail is to be off in your ass
With a AK or a Uzi screamin', "Give me your cash nigga"
So back to fuck on up
'Cause can't nobody stop this nigga to sellin' a D
That's raw and uncut fuckin' over fiends
Laughin' in their faces sellin' soap to niggas can die any day
Niggas come showed off in them jacks G
Another homie eyes wide open dead in my backseat
We never thought that they would get him
My nigga was like a soldier we'd never knew that the bullet hit him
Thought to myself was cocaine with my homie's life
He picked the crime 'Do or Die' now he pays the price
To look in struggle on his face with his Gat in his hand
My nigga died with the face of a desperate man
So we can tear this face, we can tear this face
The face of a desperate man, G yeah-man
So we can tear his face when him smokin' the endo
So we can tear this face, we can tear this face
The face of a desperate man, G yeah-man
So we can tear his face when him smokin' the endo
Check motherfuckin' 1 check 1, 2
I gotta gets my mail thats what I gotta do
And don't nobody run up on me
'Cause Franklin and Grant is my only motherfuckin' homie
I made a deal with the devil and sold my soul
Through about O.E. and fourteen-years old
Young hog ass nigga never ever saw
Got me a strap and learned not to shoot my brolls of
And all the youngsters sneakin' pass the bottle
Because the G's, pimps and hustlers was the motherfuckin' role model
And every time we had a house party
Was just the chance for a nigga to see another nigga's dead body
And nobody stayed around for sequels
'Cause the nigga that was bustin' was spreadin' bullets around equal
Now they mobbin' I'm seein' sparks hearin' shots
Pistol's popped another motherfucker flopped
On the ass first up by the 44 flat line ambulance put him in the door
Loud screams from his homies yellin' I'm a smoke 'em
Feelin' bad cause his partners on blood joke 'em a touchin' scene
Niggas screamin' in the rain looked in his homeboys face
His homie said his name now he'd be lookin' for that nigga
With the Gat and ready for that re drum
With the face of a desperate man
So we can tear this face, we can tear this face
The face of a desperate man, G yeah-man
So we can tear his face when him smokin' the endo
So we can tear this face, we can tear this face
The face of a desperate man, G yeah-man
So we can tear his face when him smokin' the endo
94 is gettin hot style nigga, I gotta watch my shit
Mug on my face nigga hound dog mean bitch
I'm muggin' every nigga that be walkin' by
Is it true can his hand be quicker than my eye
I'm wonderin' if I gotta pull out my steel
'Cause motherfuckers they can feel me they will look at me real
So, flow to the motherfuckin' 4, if I have to let 'em know
Not to play me like a hoe 'cause I sticks to the G code
I unloads the clips and ease on down the road
1 and 1 Spice only I do my dirt about my motherfuckin' lonely
So we can tear this face, we can tear this face
The face of a desperate man, G yeah-man
So we can tear his face when him smokin' the endo
So we can tear this face, we can tear this face
The face of a desperate man, G yeah-man
So we can tear his face when him smokin' the endo
94, Spiggedy 1 with up on that ass, yeah
Mean muggin' every nigga that ride by
Face of a desperate man nigga, I got to gets mine
So if you try to take my shit
Quick to bust a cap in that ass
featuring Mack 10
Intro: Mack 10
BLaaaow Blam 187
Straight murder display from LA to the Bay
Westside My nigga Spice 1 aka Fetty Chico
And I'll be Mack 10 aka Mack Manson
What up Spice
Spice 1:
We serving chickens you damn sure can't get at Roscoe's
If you don't want to see no murder then keep your eyes closed
Nigga shake the dice up roll 'em if it's one or ten
They won't be able to put your ass together again
Leave you in Reece's Pieces, rolling in white cornices
Knocking out teethes, I know where we can get the blackheads cheapest
From my homie down the street on the block
He copping everything from Desert Eagles down to them mini-Glocks
If niggas fuck off the money we raise the murder stats
Me and my nigga Mack 10 committing terrorist acts
You see us bailing don't mumble under your breath
Have the heart to say fuck you so I can put five in your chest nigga
Don't be no punk, I put my Uzi where my mouth is
Yay under couches running out of crack houses
We down and dirty for the birdy thirty-five a sack
Nigga give up the stack it's Fetty Chico and The Mack
Chorus:
Fetty Chico and The Mack
(Murder Murder) Ma-A-Mack 10 shooter, kill a man looter
Fetty Chico And The Mack
(Murder Murder) Open up your mouth, Say Ahh, get
ready for theBlaaoow
Fetty Chico and The Mack
(Murder Murder) Ma-A-Mack 10 shooter, kill a man looter
Fetty Chico And The Mack
(Murder Murder) Open up your mouth, Say Ahh, get
ready for theBlaaoow
Mack 10:
I'm in a murderous mindstate
I'm on so much dope and coke I can't even do my line straight
I smoke that ??? that shit put me in a trance
And since my last LP they start calling me Mack Manson
Now when I come around punks know they're gone
??? my pistol around and fall straight into a coma
So take if you want it that's my number one motto
Hitting licks like the lotto, with a four-five bottle
And assault rifles like Rambo full of ammo
Dump a nigga in his chest and watch him bleed through his flesh
???...... chicken hawking
You kill a nigga, you kill his bitch so she can't talk
So I smoked the bitch and made it simple
I put one in her temple and got horny as a nympho
So with a hard dick and guns, a bad bitch dies
I take my two fingers and then I slowly close her eyes
Chorus
Capping him in his b-brain, with the m-mack t-ten
that's my p-partner we d-d-doing him in
L-l-leave him in the t-trunk
'til his c-crazy kid kicks one in the ch-chamber off
the s-safety
I g-got 'em g-got 'em four extra c-clips
Infra-red b-beam h-hollow tips
D-dirty l-licks m-midnight
M-Mack W-One O and l-laser sights
R-rollin b-blunts smoking to the doobie
In my h-hooptie with my uzi t-talking to me
Telling me thought another lick we can go pull off
He told me keep your mask on don't take your hood off
So me bail into Burger King and me pistol whip the guard
Everybody up on the floor nobody try to make it hard
Another guard was hiding he jumped out and bust at me
So I let him count the bullets in my C-L-I-P
Me hear them sirens ringing and me take off with the stack
Bailing without the stretch it's Fetty Chico and The Mack
187-187-187-187-Blaaaow
Chorus
(Murder Murder)
Murder murder and Kill Kill Kill
World Wide WestSide
Verse 1:
Welcome to the ghetto, and this is the place, young niggas be throwin
They rocks up in my face
My homey g be yellin yo this like a holdup, I'm pullin my gat to make
A mutha fucka fold up
In my jag on my phone talkin business, mac 10 to my dome yo what is this
I'm tellin him drop it yo let's box and we can go a round, he dropped
His gat I picked it up and blew his ass down
I know it's scandalous but a simple fuckin dirty fact, I'd rather hear
My uzi rat-a-ta-ta-tat-tat
It's for protection not to kill or break a nigga's bones, back to the
Story, here's the story b the story on
His guts were scattered he was splattered up against the wall, my homey
G was on my phone buggin off my call
I tried to smash but I'm lookin at some high beams into the eyes of
Some mutha fuckin dope fiend
He seen me shoot him so I shot him blew his ass off , I shot my uzi up
In the air and then I smashed off
I'm rollin thicker than a milkshake, I like to eat crab but I prefer
Steak
I ain't no joke mutha fucka so don't play yourself, I flip you over fry
Your ass like a patty melt
And if you ever disrespect me i'ma bank ya, so say what up to the
Mutha fuckin east bay gangsta
Meneme forgot to use my nine 'cause 5-0 bombed the ak, the 187 posse
Robbed the bank in a way. legal or illegal it's the way of the bay. the
Government keep the profit of cocaine in a way. me shootin up me
Shootin up if he don't give me my pay the niggas up on the block send
For me every day. a thousand everyday will keep the 5-0 away. just
Call me east bay g-a-n-g-s-t-a
Verse 2:
Looked in my mirror cose range right behind me, tinted windows up in
The benz 190
I ain't no dummy knew right off he's tryin to kill me, if I don't smash
Full of buckshot he will fill me
Hangin out the car shots scatter windows shatter trouble, I'll shoot
Him up bathed in his blood like mr bubble
187 did I do it with an ak, another day a nigga dead up in the
Alleyway
Why did I do it, it's my pistol and I packed it, I think they need to
Lock my ass up in a straightjacket
So all you suckas listen close to this warnin, while I get into your
Ass like charmin
Funky shit that so dope so open your mouth up, you ever shuck me i'ma
Blow your fuckin house up
And if youever disrespect me i'ma bank ya, so say what up to the mutha
Fuckin eastbay gangsta
Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta, gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta kickin the funky
Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gi gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta(? ? ? ) g-nut
Because he's down with the fac, lynch mutha fuckas when we're coolin
The block. the x the l the a the r-g-e, the murder fac 187 posse. the
E-a-ski is with 187, the cmt is with 187
Verse 3:
Now as I'm maxin in this mutha fuckin jail cell, with nuthin but dried
Up funk to smell
I thinkin about the times that I ganked fools and why I'm coolin in
These fucked up county blues
I 've murder mutha fuckas singular and in a pair, and in the morning
I'll be getting the electric chair
But do I care, yo I could give a fuck less, the cia, fbi got it in the
Chest
Tappin my phone calls, wires hidden in my walls, I had the money flowin
Smooth like niagara falls
The glory got so I'm considered a murderous criminal, because my bullet
Ate his ass like a cannibal
Before I chopped him with ak I made him say his grace, and then i
Emptied the clip off up in his fuckin face
His partner callin for backup as I was breakin out, nigga refused to
Die, that's what I heard him shout
I hit the corner with quickness because I ain't the one, to feel the
Fuckin blast of a shotgun
And when they fry my ass, I'm goin straight hell, that's why I'm kickin
You tales of a jail cell
And if you ever disrespect me i'ma bank ya, so say what up to the mutha
Fuckin eastbay gangsta
Dja mon, me gonna kick the funky gangsta shit mon, me kickin the funky
Gangsta. the gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta,
Gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da gangsta
Dja mon, mida me got e-a-ski in the house mon, me got me dj xtra large
Mon, we got cmt in the mutha fuckin house, dja mon we got (? ? ? ? ) check
It out!
Verse 4:
Me pullin out me glock mon to settle the ghetto job me kickin the funky
Reggae kickin the funky rasta
Many people that I be meeting be calling me killa gangsta then shoot up
Your bitch and kick back and smoke a blunt in the car
Me fuckin with dank me fuckin with dank it's s-p-i-c-e 1 me buckin em
Down me buckin em down shootin lead in his lung
Me kickin the funky gangsta shit to get the bitch sprung, the 187
Faculty bitch so fuck the
(kokane)
Ah yeah...
(spice 1)
Murder is a part of the game and the jealous got me strapped
Crunch nappy sack, sick homies who got my back
Dead bodies, handcuffs, and house rage
Two and the one up on that dope track, sportin gangsta brains
Me and my homies feelin bail up in the hooptie
With the fifth degree in martin, the car ain't startin
Some haters rolled up fo' deeper than the chevy
Wavin techs up in the air like machine-gun kelly
I tell all my partners to bail up out the bucket
One raised the clout and the other gettin ducked quick
Enough, been rough so I begin to bust, straight dome shots
Droppin got them shakin like they cop lockin
Ski skirt clout smokin down the street
With his player partner beatin up at these niggas up in the other seat
I check myself see if I'm shot, but they don't hit me
Shoppers singin like whitney they wanna fit me
With a full metal jacket, but they don't get me
Not one bullet touch my body, not even nick me
We rushed my homie to the nearest carsa hospital
But it's too late he all felt stiff like a pop sickle (damn!)
(chorus w/variations: kokane)
Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
(spice 1)
We shipped this spot for homicide, heat emergency
Feelin go perform my own open heart surgery
Because my partner shouldn't died like that
We gotta show my homie love and get them busters back
So we mobb through the ghetto lookin for revenge
But we can't find a soul, fools talkin bout us gettin cold
Behold a chevy with gold deeds
Could these be the headers who made my hooptie look like swiss cheese
Fools musta turned the lights off and let's get closer
Don't let em see you pull your mask down, pull out the dullja's
With tales from the creepin on the hush feelin leave fo' suckers in a dutch
The midnight drama don't stop so if you get some dirt
They'll dig you in the clear, cause player, you'll be outta here
We ain't no suckers, we doin it like john gottie
We left them fools in the parkin lot with open bodies
(chorus w/variations: kokane)
Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
(spice 1)
We built up out the scene with out a clue
People call the police but that's all they can do
We hit the freeway in a bucket, feelin no remorse
We regulatin in the ghetto with deadly force
And ain't nobody tellin nothin about the decease
Cause if you snitch your family count will get decrease
Up in the game them things gonna be poppin ya, 187 in the style of the mafia
This ain't no business for busters, trick ass haters
Try their pager, jealous cause you livin major
Hit me on my pager, sharp as a razor
And suckers who don't feel me, get the red laser
And sicker than a hangover, fools try to slang boulders
But get snatched out their range rovers
(chorus w/variations: kokane)
Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Now I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Now I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Situations gotta stick, drama, I don't give a fuck about you, yeah
Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me
(Spice-1)It's the motherfuckin heist so don't ring the alarm 'G'
It's the B-O-S-S and the S-P-I-C-E
So, put this gat in your pants (right)
And we gonna rob these motherfuckers
for every nookie and cranny
My nigga G-N-U-T is up inside
He's trapped with the AK that's how us East Bay niggas ride
Player, I'm gonna spray these cameras with this paint
And when I do, blow that bald ass security guard out his shoes
(Boss)
Well aiyyo nigga gimme the shit
So Boss can load a full clip
A trigger-happy bitch screamin ";get down";
motherfuckers are makin us rich
Creepin in the bank, we tip-toe slowly they don't know me 'G'
Pullin lace to get rich with 187 faculty
Me and my glock to use my glock
Cause fire'll bomb the AK-a (uh)
The 187 posse rob the bank in their way-a
(Boss)
My nigga G-Nut whattup?
(Nutter, cause we ain't ?pit? stop)
I know we got the caddy in the lobby
for the robbery car to kill the cop
(Spice-1)
Like Bonnie & Clyde called it the motherfuckin stick-up
Pick-up any fool smooth I'll make this Uzi wanna hiccup
So kick up the cash before I blast with this Jason mask
Quit tryin to fuck with a psychopath
(Chorus w/variations)
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
(Boss)
We runnin up out the bank
Yelling ";clear"; to the public
You probably never seen a bitch
that's showin you niggas how to properly fuckin huh
We rushed it to the getaway
We slid away niggas get done away
Then that loot is getting hid away
Livin in the fast watch the shit get hot as we were bailin
I'm givin a signal to my motherfuckin niggas trailin
And from behind a couple of pistols and some Uzi's
and thinkin doin those niggas before them motherfuckers do me in
Its kind of simple shoot them in the temple
Search through them all I got my niggas from the ore
And motherfuckers are bore, uh
(Spice-1)
Yo 'G' it's getting deeper and deeper
But yo I got the flavor for the motherfuckin fever
A fever for the flavor of the motherfuckin jet
I looked up in the bag 50G's, 100 stacks
My trigga gots no heart and yo it ain't no love bitch
Nigga, talkin about killin motherfuckers dumpin em in a ditch
I must survive 'G' they won't take me alive 'G'
Peepin out these niggas up in the van who been trailin me
The coppers are comin, deep as fuck so try to catch a thug
The only way I'm fallin is slippin on one of these niggas blood
I'm givin a fuck so yo whassup I feel a wild pitch
I'm gonna light this chronic and start some OK like corral shit
Then kill this bitch, and keep the cash, get my dash on
That's how we doin it in 93 I gets my blast on
We thought we ditched the coppers rolled up in the cat 'G'
I'm about to kill these motherfuckers that been followin me
I'm pullin my glock out I hear the helicopters comin
Pigs has us surrounded, dropped the loot and started runnin
(Chorus w/ variations)
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
Don't ring the alarm 'G'
(*Several gun shots*)
.
Chorus:
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
Verse 1: young kyoz
Here I come steppin'
Tha murder weapon
Cappin' off safety
Keep one in tha chamber
Nigga
Your life is in danger
(boyowh!) call me 'cause I'm floating cross
Tha river droppin g shit
Wit mo' kicks than a steven segal
(boyaaa!) peep this
From tha unforgiven mask murderer
Handcuffing tha m-i-c
Serving niggaz like miky d's
Mo' action's than jackson
U never breath again like toni braxton
When I'm maxing
Shooting rhymes like john paxson
And don't forget
Tha lights on tha carmera
So I lick 'em
Stick 'em
Did 'em
Dun 'em
Get mo' mellow than I trail 'em
To tha darkside
And make 'em evacuate wit tha sickness
Killin' my fatal flow wit tha quickness
Ugh!
U really don't wanna see me and my flow
(u don't wanna see me, u don't wanna see me) 'cause I can play it like
Casper
Get real
Then I'm ghost
All I want to know
Fool!
Can u feel it?
Nigga!
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
Verse 2: e-40
Uuhh!/
Nigga who tha fuck u talkin to?
Talkin ya ass muthafucka
U's got no clue
I'll be your huckleberry (huckleberry)
Tha black
I fill me mildow wit my
Serial number scratch off must be a throw away
Muthafuckaz expect me to come soft
But fool I'm here to stay
(gunshots)
Blow, bllaarraah, muthafuckaz, blastmuthafuckaz
(gunshots end)
Release tha tec
No chop to tha bank
It's hot
No rock n jock
U big bullies get turned to semi automactics
Get too of full ass
I like tha times wit my social thugs
Stay away from tha
Brushing up on my shooting skillz
Charge of property land
Aiming at coke bottle and aluminuim can
Walkin' around this muthafucka wit ya lips
Closed out
Fools know wut I'm about
Muthafuck u!
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
Verse 3: spice-1
A whu, a whu
A 1-2-3
It's tha muthafuckin' killa
Bailin' up out tha caddy
Wit tha inferred up on my milla
See ya muthafuckin' head up
Wit this muthafuckin' in his mouth
Creepin' up in ya fuckin' house
Leave ya brain on tha couch
Just some g shit
From some niggaz
Who really don't give a fuck
1990-sick up on this album all u bitches duck
Bbllaawwhhh!
Triple gold knack off
Be holdin my tire on
Fuckin' wit tha alcohol, tobacco and tha firearm
My nigga e-4-0
Double jeff
And kyoz
U way off
Hoes like a fro
And u gunn stay soft
That's why I'm pickin' on ya ass
Ya fony nigga
East bay gangstaz for life
Str8 1-8-7 killaz
Talkin':
Bbllaawwhh!
Yeah man
We just take em got em
Put tha barrol in they mouth and just bbllaawwhh!
Just takin' muthafuckin' grims out they mouth
'cause really don't give a fuck
Bbllaawwh!!!!
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby? )
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(I want to know)
Yeah well check game you know what I'm sayin
Muthafucka step outside you know what I'm sayin
Then get my muthafuckin Chronic sack, know what I'm sayin
Turn around, motherfucker sheriff
Motherfucker got his hand in my goddamn back pocket and shit
Handcuffed a nigga
Threw him on the backseat, search a nigga car
Find his goddamn strap, now I'm up in this motherfucker
Straight caught up, Fuck it though, you know
Soon as a nigga steps up in the county
I see killaz goin to the row
It was a riot kickin off early up in the dorm next door
I'm up in the 9500 where the shankin is on
If you up in the LA county, nigga you feelin me strong
It's a million penitentary one OG said
Secerity Guard fast tapped a shank up under our bed
And bust them headz with a flashlight at 3 in the morning
Waken your ass up with a BLEW, nigga put you blues on
And get the fuck up out the bunk we gonna go for a walk
Police got a code of silence, see none of them talk
About the shit that be goin on up in the County Jail
5 guards handcuffed a nigga beat him to death in his cell
See 3 days is like a month, 3 months is like a year
Cause you can get your throat slit from ear to ear
I wish somebody would help me out in the situation I'm in
But there ain't no luv up in the County
cause your foe's got to be your friend...
If the guard want to come and find mine
2 hands and a Razor blade
then the officer gonna have to get my
2 hands off the razor blade
When I wake up in the morning and see it again
then someones gonna have to end up D.D.Dead
and if your Friend got soaked then he a D.D.Dead.
Yeah you know what I'm sayin a dead motherfucker
barely up in there, they try to slide around all over the place
like a little bitch or something
They try to get him to calm down, but anyway it goes like this
They tell a nigga strip down to naked and shit
in the shower with thirty motherfuckers
But there's only ten in the shower
Then they tear off somebodies draws and be like
Awww too big too small, that shit ain't cool mayn
Verse 2
Murder, it's just a part of the game, you get you jugular opened
up if you say the say the wrong niggaz name, I hear the guard screamin
shut the fuck up, and as I look to my right side I see
niggaz gettin cut, shanked, stabbed, wounded, sliced
watch your adam's apple when the guards hit the lights
but the real niggaz luv me, though I'm 1990-sick
plus I'm not the type of nigga that won't swole up quick
so past me the potatoes nigga, I don't mean to be rude
but if you starve for a minute you gonna fuck with this fool
up in the county jail, niggaz be startin them riots
and if you see some of murder, shut you mouth and be quiet
If you are hard keep your shank nigga, there ain't no tellin
when the mafia bailin up in the cells where the niggaz dwellin
only the strong survive, I ain't no motherfuckin cat
I ain't got nine lives, so bring it on motherfucker
I'm tellin him to bring it on in my cell
Get my yokes on all night long
Bustin lyrics with my killa partners they so sick
sittin around all night spittin bout G shit
said he had three keys the motherfuckers call him fiends
now he's stuck up in the county with some niggaz like these
ain't no muthafuckin luv up in the county jail
picture you life a livin hell if you slangin yea...
Chorus with news reporter
If the guard want to come and find mine
2 hands and a Razor blade
Then the officer gonna have to get my
2 hands off the razor blade
When I wake up in the morning and see it again
then someones gonna have to end up D.D.Dead
and if your Friend got soaked then he a D.D.Dead.
News reporter
How a small law inforcement budget can't even put a dent
on an estimated 100 billion dollars of weed in this business
Verse 3
Keep your hands in your pockets and your shoulders to the wall
Keep your hands in your pockets and your shoulders to the wall
Keep your hands in your pockets and your shoulders to the wall
and if you don't walk straight, then they gonna have to beat you
until you have to crawl, this ain't no bullshit
you gonna mind somebody, niggaz comin up in here
thinkin that they bought it like they John Gotti
and still get the fuck broke off
take the hardest muthafucka and turn him into something soft
I keep a shank up in my sandwich, so I can do damage
to motherfuckers who wanna test my nuts and handle this
looked at my cellmate he threw up his set
but Trigger guy so hard died with a tattoo on his chest
so know this gangsta shit is poppin, the guards is comin
Motherfuckers is runnin, I hear the Po-Po gunnin
While the bullets is screamin, I hear get the fuck on the floor
niggaz holler man damn it's the murder show
so get you muthafuckin shank and nigga beware
of the Sh Sh Sheriff cause he's out there...
BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187
the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187
the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187
the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187, the 187
the 187, the 18BLAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Yeah
Spice muthafuckin one
Coolin in cali
Kickin that gangsta shit
You get with it?
[ verse 1 ]
Hopped in my blazer, mashed off and left a boy in his car, then
Tagged him with the skull and bones, cause he be soften
Hollow like a head without no brains inside
And his girl was so damn small, you had to strain your eyes
Got to the corner, hit a left, seen the hpd
That's when I knew that they were after s-p-i-c-e
Turned up my music and dashed, goin 90, I mashed
Bullet holes all in my window from a 12-gauge blast
He was all on my ass, I had to think real fast
Hooked a left, all of a sudden heard a boom and a crash
Tried to catch the cold, sold the devil his soul
Had his car and his face wrapped around a pole
With my vogues still smokin hit 580 to oakland
Still upset with the police because my window was broken
But my beat was still bumpin and my amp was still pumpin
And my nine was in my lap if any funk was jumpin
Got the 20th and nice as I kicked my tune
Hooked a left on 23rd and seen my homeboy june
Jumped straight out like an arrow, had more gold than the pharaoh
Had my nikey sweat suit on and it was read like a sparrow
I told him what had happened and he already knew
He said, "you got a little funky with a fake-ass crew
The bass went boom and your gun went bang
And all you could see was flames"
At that very moment coke and ray started laughin
And slapped each other's hands and said, "it's all about blastin"
In the city streets
City streets
[ verse 2 ]
Kickin it at the park shootin craps with some homies
My first roll was a 7, so niggas can't get on me
So since my point is 4, I left a little joe
I'm kissin on the dice and I'm pimpin em like my hoe
So then I roll again, I'm fuckin with big ben
Now I ain't fade jack because I'm knockin with that ten
I picked up the dice, shook em up and rolled once mo'
What came out the do'? whaddaya know, I hit that 4
Fuckin with the dank I'm hearin marvin gaye's oldies
Fadin another 20, took a sip of my 40
There go my homie g-nut with the gin and the juice
My nigga's always fuckin with that 187 proof
I took a big-ass gulp and feelin quite tipsy
Knowin I'm like this these niggas try to cheat me
Huh, they can't get with me, I put em in his place
Then g-nut threw the gin and busted a nigga in his face
I thought it was quite funny, and I began to smirk
The fat-ass niggas face was grounded lyin in the dirt
So I picked up my mail, and I'm about to go
Cause I'm about that mo' money, mo' money, mo'
Now homie on his face, he rolled over just like that
And said, "this is a jack, gimme all my fuckin money back"
I act like I was scared, gave his money back fast
And when he tried to leave, I busted a cap up in his ass
These niggas out the kitchen if you can't take the heat
Cause muthafuckas gank ya, shank ya, sank ya in the city streets
The city streets
[ verse 3 ]
A few weeks back I robbed a nigga for a ki
Kickin it on the block, slingin d to o-p-e
Yo, runnin from the five-o, you think this shit is funny
By any means necessary I must make my money
If niggas try to fade me, I pull out my nine
And pop-pop-pop-pop a nigga from behind
In this world of madness muthafuckas die
Niggas sling and bang, and bitches always lie
So I choose to be murderous and chop up niggas' bodies
And set like an example, a villain like john gotti
The muthafuckin gangsta s-p-i-c-e
They ring my mobile phone, now who the fuck could that be?
Bitch, I said don't call me, I'm busy clockin g's
I thought it was the fuzz, but some niggas told me 'freeze!'
The barrel was my back, it's a muthafuckin jack
I knew I shoulda packed, I ain't goin out like that
These niggas caught me slippin, and fuck a yellow sack
Niggas must be trippin cause they daytons touch my back
I hopped out of my shit and told him go ahead
And when he tried to leave I busted a cap up in his head
With blood all over his face is how the homie fled
I dragged him out the car and filled his corpse full of lead
These niggas out the kitchen if you can't take the heat
Cause bitch, I'm a gangsta, shank ya, sank ya in the city streets
Aight, banks
I peep your thighs when I look in the car
Baby, you ain't got to be on my shoulder to be a star
Ain't a trick honey, cuz tricks is for pimps and hoes
Just want to get you in the bathroom and take off your clothes
Throw that ass on the seat like ??? and me alone
Havin' sweaty sex, feelin' breasts with lex on
Do it in the brome with diamond links and chrome
Just call me on the phone and let me know it's on
So sexy when I seen ya, want to hit it right there
Picture myself fuckin the pretty curls out your hair
Me and you buckin naked, no panties, no one to wear
Doin' thug dancin and ??? like Fred Astaire
Wanna do it to ya till ya can't taste no more
On the edge of the bed about to fall on the floor
Shift to high speeds than I hit it real slow
Spark up the indo, said baby give me some more
Can I Hit It Tonight?
CHORUS
I got the ??? in the crysty
and all you gotta do is come kiss me
And if you diss me, honey that's all right
My thug game is still tight
Just trying to see if I can hit a little something tonight
I see the pressure, you want to make a move but you won't
I know what you thinking, i'm thinkin' something is wrong
Now why you wanna go and do that love, huh?
Turn off the lights and give me a back rub, huh
Got my mind twisted up, I know what's crackin
In the tub, bubble bath, kinky sex and laughin'
Keep my heat on the seat of the toilet, you think it's funny
Giggling when i'm slappin that ass, countin' more money
You know I love you girl
I could set a cup on your booty and it'll hold
Mob style, livin' them thugged out dreams
baby i'm a rider and i'm into some things
but I ain't goin into detail honey, just call me on it
my partners might call me on the phone in the morning
won't wake you up before I go...go, oh no
Up early whippin' birdies that don't chirp to get my cash flow
Don't take it personal, it's all love
Let's do it around the house all night and smoke bud
Put some ice on your belly button, lickin' it off
I'm tatted up, thugged out, your body warm and soft
Can I Hit It Tonight?
CHORUS
I shove my thug love deep inside, watch you react
Sexy as hell, diggin your nails deep in my back
Can I Hit It? Let's play a little hide and go get it
Smell your perfume through the rooms of the house, come wid it
On the back of the sofa, got me bendin' ya over
Rug burns on me knees
Got my brim on your head with a cigar in your mouth
Trying to act like me, trying to be thugged out
Like coffee skin tone remind me of pancakes
Dancin' on the kitchen table, got me watchin' and shakin'
You was waitin' at the house with a t-shirt and your panties on
We thuggin in a six, hold on it won't be long
Break the bed, bangin' bodies like two Bloods and Crips
Got your hand on my thigh while i'm grippin' your hips
Call the po-pos cause it's a crime what I do to your body
Lost in ecstacy, bombed out, doin' the naughty
Can I Hit It?
Aiyyo Spice, all these rich motherfuckers keep going to
The record stores buyin' these fake ass raps, you know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, yeah, I hear you byte all that fake shit
Niggas need to get up on the hardcore shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
Ay, man, you still got the Ski mask and them gats
I'm ready to jack these motherfuckers, I'm ready to break this up
Yeah, fuck that, let's handle that business
Huh, yeah, we gotta flow sumptin' funky
Check it, Spice 1 is fuckin' it up upon the flow
And if you got the static motherfucker we can go
My homie Ant Banks got the bass line thumpin'
Stop a nigga heart 'cause my mouth is a guage pumpin'
Spice is on the one and Ant is on the two
But y'all don't kick it yet because a nigga just ain't trough
Comin' hard as fuck I be like acin' and I'm icin'
Steppin' into the ring fuckin' 'em up like Michael Tyson
Gimme all your cash 'cause I'm about to blast
And bust 50 bullets in your motherfuckin' ass
Niggas think I'm crazy 'cause I'm poppin' off at the mouth
And plus I had the chopper pointed at your damned house
My name is Spice 1, I be a vicious motherfucker
Get you for a key and leave you lyin' in the gutter
And if you think its possible to harm 'em
I be stickin' my foot up in your ass like it was [Incomprehensible]
So nigga brake yourself and buy the motherfuckin' tape
The beat'll fuck your ears like a statutory rape
Murderous nigga on the gangsta tip
So MC Ant cover me while I reload the motherfuckin' clip
And by the way if you want your life don't take yourself
Buy the dope ass record and brake yourself
Huh, yeah, you know what I'm sayin'?
Got MC Ant in the motherfuckin' house
He came to break these motherfuckers
Load the clip and handle your business, partner
A N T is like a motherfuckin' pro in it
Niggas didn't know that I kick it funky and flow with it
Straight up out the O A K L A N D
Coolin' all the bitches when I be on the late night tweak
Who's that on the corner be stoppin' and starin' to makin' 'em stutter
Was that MC Ant, the rip-a-rappin' motherfucker
187 with the 211 and progress
So get out the shit break bitch because I'll just
Pistol whip your ass and slam the tape
I pop if you wanna brake and dump you off in the lake
Run if you dumb dick I'm quick to pop the clip
Slip if you wanna slip, I'm tough and won't even trip
Don't move and you won't get hurt
Take off your motherfuckin' clothes and put your face in the dirt
This is a genuine gank move, bitch
So give me your money and your jewels and make me rich
Another nigga might play it on a cool tip
But Ant and Spice won't be takin' no bullshit
Everything nigga, even your gold tooth
I knock the motherfucker lose if you want prove
'Cause I'm down for the mail
And if it's worth the jail I'm out on bail
If it ain't given I'll straight up take your wealth
Tell a motherfucker straight up brake yourself
Yeah, and that's how we run that shit on this motherfuckin' stage
Right now, you know what I'm sayin'?
Ay, Spice, I want you to step to 'em and kick it one more time
With that gangsta shit
It's like a G O, and I kick in a bankin' a motherfucker
So stop at the red light and I just wanted a battle
Another rich ass nigga on a ego tip
Give up the Rolex watch [Incomprehensible] bitch
And have ya both in the back of a black hearse
Bitch, if you want your life give me your fuckin' purse
This is a Halloween trick or treat
But if you trick you get beat shut up left dead in the street
'Cause 187 is runnin' shit up in the house
Down to shoot you in your motherfuckin' mouth
And MC Ant of O A K L A N D
Is with the faculty and S P I C E
So put the goodies inside the bag
This ain't a lolly gag stick in my clip and raise him up out his jag
I let the motherfuckin' 9 click
Comin' at our dome kickin' funky gangsta shit
So nigga empty your pocket, pull out your bank roll
Try to be a hero and let us nut up your ass hole
'Cause Arnold Schwarzenegger just play parts
But I specialize in stoppin' nigga's hearts
187 is sendin' niggas to ghetto heaven
We beat the funk out your eardrums and keep it revvin'
So don't pound too hard and fuck up your health
And by the way drop the Abraham Lincolns and brake yourself
Yeah
Motherfucker you wanna spent that money on that bass hip
You wanna get the bomb, baby
Yeah, nigga brake yourself and get with the real shit
Yeah, nigga , MC Ant and Spice in the house
With Ant Banks on the tracks
Yeah, Ant Banks in the motherfuckin' house
187 motherfucker
Goin' out to all you motherfuckers
We got the dope shit
Bustin' caps in your motherfuckin' eardrums
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
Some niggas be all up in my shit, you need to quit
Sprinkle a motherfucker that will leave you split
Tore back ass out bringing you your hat
Flat broke, talking about fuck that nigga S P I
But you can't go one on one Spice 1 because I'm born to die
I gets even up on they ass like punk bitches in ditches
The gangsterism resulting in murderism
Bailing up in your hooptie at the gas station
You facing the killer for real-a punk ass nigga where the scrilla
Jacking you for your shit, taking your ends pull off my mask
Hitting the corner, hopping up in my Benz with your cash
Mobbing I mash out, you ass out
Left you shot up in your seven-trey glasshouse
Because you don't know me like you think you do, I'm down for thefetty
Ready to die for them presidents, high powered and deadly
I ask to ball or not to ball, partner answer the question
I meet a nigga running up on my hooptie with Smith and Wesson
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
One time for your mind
Here to represent the pimps, playas, hustlas, ballers
All my niggas on the grind, packing nine millimeters
Nine lives like cheetahs but your still in [unverified]
Drug dealers peep the shit that I kick
Hustling, busting down zips making chips
If we ain't making it we taking shit
To the extreme hit the scenery with machine
Gun, get the creamery and ice cream, nobody scream
Nobody run, I come like point blank
Mobbing the motherfucking bank, looking like Benjamin
Frank and I take so many penitentiary chances, to make
Scrilla scratch niggas must have more stack in the safe
I mean [unverified], nigga your safe is my safe
And I'm gonna make sure that my safe ain't your safe
By putting a .38 up in your face
For running up in my place and shake the spot
And not expect to get your ass shot
Yeah, another one bites the dust
The shyster busts caps at your house
Matter fact, niggas don't like the Yukmouth
About to L-U, didn't they tell you
I'm a youngster trying to have something like my nigga L-Q
Ballin'
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, I die a paid nigga
It's the motherfucking East Bay G with
The hundred clipper, savage thug nigga
See I was born with the lust for money, chrome plated triggers
Mob style haulering 187 up in your face
Put a gauge between your throat and tell you that your out of place
Motherfuckers don't be knowing we vicious and vicious
To get the cheese more tickets to G's, cruises overseas
Can't be no punk about the shit that we're in
Got to be a soldier to the game or nigga you'll never get your dividends
Balling till I die, until I die I'll be a baller
Let my riders do the dirt and I'll be the shot caller
Whatever I got to do for the lifestyle that'll pay them forever
Never slip stay on my toes nigga walk with the yellow stripe
But pull me back, because they cowards and shit
I be the nigga that take your drama and put a twist in your the shit
Caps get slapped with steel, hot slugs will be your meal
Fucking around with my money is just going to get your ass killed
5-1-0 And 2-1-3 is you a baller or a G?
Ha ha ha. To thug or not to thug? To G or not to G? See that's the
Question. Everytime I hit L.A. I get love you know cause I'm from the Bay
Dub C, Big Syke you know Spice 1. Feel me
Count the dollars on the Lexy don't waste your time
Let it shine let it shine let it shine
Mizzolas and 850 flossin' I'm tossin'
Doobies up out the window smokin' often coughin'
Chokin' hard up off the indo smoke
My mens with extra clips Hennessy Lemon squeeze begin to dip on me
The G with the strap up on my side
Keepin' these haters apon they toes cause they know I'm ready to ride
Hide but you can't get away
This is your dead homie you should of put your tool away
But you still pull it on me, see I ain't trippin'
I got foot soldiers that do dirt for me
Love me enough to hurt for me and do some work for me
Black roses is sent to the families with all the lives lost
Kill 'em soft pay off my henchmen like a mob boss
Mobster ballin' out the hooptie
Who could it be? S.P.I.C.E
5-1-0 And 2-1-3 is you a baller or a G?
Sound like baller I'm caught up in troubled times
Destiny knows help me free my mind
What can I do but stay true and be a man
I'm just doin' what I can
Migrate to Oakland lay low with my dog Spice
Hang out with killers and dodge device
Gotta pay the price took a life or maybe two (was it two?)
I wouldn't of done it if I didn't have to
In the wrong place at the right time evil minds learkin'
Thought I was over peerkin' searchin' for a home I feel alone
On these cold streets, sleepin' on couches with no sheets
God guide me hide me from incarceration and start this despiration
I'm facin' more time then I really got to give
Damn I wanna live in 2-1-3
5-1-0 And 2-1-3 is you a baller or a G?
It's the Dub S.C. O.G. parolee
And although deez steadily grinding for cheese
Trunk fulla keys on my way O.T. from 5-1-0 to the 2-1-3
I puts it down bendin' the corner with my all blue Chevy
My mind on gettin' the fetti, my heater cocked back and ready
With G's crime related, affilated eyes faded
Big bodies paper plated stayin' shaded for federated
My crews full of nothin' but riders high off the Remy
Chuck Taylors neck pieces and knitted beenies (uh ha)
Mashin' on the regular hustlin' day and night
Went from chronic to water but now we pushin' the China white
Much loved by many but now by many hated
Trippin' off the the haters lookin' mad cause we made it
But don't get mad at me because I executed the game
I got my hustle on loc you can do the same
(prodeje)
Go on, remember that shit you was kickin off
Peace to my motherfuckin nine
(spice-1)
Yeah I remember that old shit
(prodeje)
So are you gonna kick some of that shit on your new album or what?
(spice-1)
Yeah, I'm gonna kick some of that shit
But ah, partner I don't even fuck with the nine no more half
(prodeje)
Man don't you know the nina is the shit?
(spice-1)
Motherfucker, one e-c-i-p-s is like a murderer
P-e-a-c-e to my motherfuckin nine servin ya
Cause I don't give a fuck who you are
Want an autograph bullet you can call me shootin star, nigga
I'm makin the murda shit to kick you in your ass a bit
380 puckin up on that ass come and test me bitch
You don't know who the fuck you're steppin to my nigga row
I'll bust a cap and leave that ass dead by the do'
My chrome is shining like new money and it's kinda funny
I keep one bullet up in the chamber (? ? ? ? ) sunny
Five and a piggy dumb, dumb bullets to his hollow tip
Thinkin 187 proof nigga come take a sip
I'm sick, as fuck I'll do a drive-by in a black hearse
And leave yo in the street for homicide I think 380 burst
187 on an undercover p-i-g
They better duck when they see the chrome 3-ad
I'm thin as see I'm suicidal I don't give a fuck
So if my face wrinkle up everybody duck
I rush a nigga bust a bigger hole in his ass
Cause hollow tip will fight a booty hoe when I blast
The bullet fucked ya when I bucked ya it was instant death
187,000 g motherfucker rest
The nigga tried to flip and unload the clip, I did the gangsta shit
(chorus: spice-1)
380 on that ass bitch
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
Niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
N-niggas look crazy
(spice-1)
Me hit the block with my 3-ad
Them niggas ballin lookin kinda shady
They owe me money and they better pay me
My shit will fuck up ya posse with the s-c-c
380 talkin to me tellin me blow a nigga back
So listen closely to the echo of the clap
Hit the motherfuckin blocks and my niggas
My motherfuckin niggas with they fingers on the triggers
So now I gotta smob and p-p-p-pop, pop
And buck with that 380 until a motherfucker drop
It's in my car boy slammed it on a under-tip
I used to kill a motherfucker for his blunted grip
I let my cousin use the shit to jack the dana-danes
A g-t-a with jackin nigga left the bloodstain
On the seat of the car he thought I was a star
Said I was a studio gangsta so I shot his jaw
(chorus: spice-1)
380 on that ass bitch
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
Niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
N-niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
Niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
N-niggas look crazy
(prodeje)
So why you quit fuckin with the nine?
(spice-1)
I got love for nina g but she won't fit in my motherfuckin top
(havikk)
Don't you know that nigga prod and hav fuck with the nine and the 380?
(havoc)
I blow a niggas ass to hell that's why I bust so deep
I pack a fuckin 3-8-0 up in my motherfuckin sleep
I'll split your skull and mail your brains to your mama fool
380 leavin motherfuckers in a blood pool
So chase your skill better yet nigga run and hide
I do a nigga on the slide when I hoop ride
So nigga smilin eat the shells from the a-t-v
Or many yet build the caps down with the faculty
(havikk)
I'm ready to kill a nigga, quick I'm ready to kill a nigga
187 ways to heaven when I drill a nigga
Then kill a daisy motherfuckers with the pistol grippin
They ass is trippin because the nina gave that ass a whippin
The back-street way yard six feet digger
Loced out with the nine makin that ass shiver
The murders watch quickly smoked up
Buck, buck, block, block, bang, boom, boom niggas over
(prodeje)
I'll grab your heart and squeeze the motherfucker till it bursts
And tie your corpse to the bumper of my homies hearse
I pack a nine but yo I'm down to pack a 3-8-0
And pump some motherfuckin slugs up in yo' anus hole
So punk ? look up? cause the s-p-i-c-e is strapped
And leave your brains pole sating in your fuckin lap
(havikk)
The cartel is for the killers the mobb piece rhymester giggy cap peelers
The giddily fuckin faculty the prodeje the killers be the smokin nigga quicker
380's on that asshole nigga
(chorus: spice-1)
B-blast at 380
Niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
B-blast at 380
N-niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
B-blast at 380
N-niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
B-blast at 380
The number you have reached 4x
[ VERSE 1 ]
We used to piss on the floors in the bathroom
In Elementary
I never thought you'd end up in the penitentiary
Readin these letters you've sendin me
Sippin hennesey watchin my back for enemies
They wanna see me burried
I heard you had to put some work in
when you got there
Don't wanna rott there
Heard niggas plot there
So what you're doin bout 5 to 10
Collect for robert green from the federal pen
Nigga what you do to get yourself in jail
He said I'm fightin double murder
25 with an L
Can you help me with my lawyer
I'm gettin kinda broke
Good girl gone bad
Niggas got smoked
Can't talk too much about it on the phone
Po-Po'd listen peep game
Your ass'd never come home , see
Damn you can't escape the drama
Don't be stressin Imma give the scrilla
To your baby momma
I seen your baby boy and he's doin O.K.
Lil' playa lookin more and more like you everyday
Yeah
You just keep pumpin that iron and watch your back
Up on the main line
I make sure that your family's doin fine
Comrads since the age of 3
And I know my patna will do the same for me
Collect from the pen
[ CHORUS ] 3x
They are dialin 1-800-C-O-L-L-E-C-T
Straight from the state penitentiary
They are dialin 1-800-C-O-L-L-E-C-T
From the federal penitentiary
[ VERSE 2 ]
They are dialin 1-800-C-O-L-L-E-C-T
It's dollar bill Susanville collect for me
Said he was glad that I'm in the rap game
Cause in the concrete zoo you livin life like the crap game
We used to be 2 lil' bad ass kids
Reminiscin on the dirt that we did
Back in the day we had to stick together , man
Gettin the hustle on in any type of weather , man
Takin the turns
While we used to keep watch out for the cops
Never no squabble we was compromisin tradin knots
Said he was seein all the homies up inside stressin
Havin suicidal thoughts over lifes lessons
My people was tryin to call and see if I'm in home yet
With hella niggas in the back yellin phone checks
( get out the phone befo' you get stole on )
They send my patna to the hole again
Before the conversation even began
Collect from the pen
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 3 ]
Hello you reached the east bay gangster S-P-I-C-E
Well its the homie from the federal penitentiary
What you have doin black
You call your momma back
She's stressin hard as you off where you at
I seen your sendin pictures with your yokes on
Braided hair with them crazy black locks on
Mad dog and ?? hog throwin up the hood
Be right here smokin Broccoli with me if you could
Peep this
My little patna been in jail so long
That he ain't even thinkin bout comin home
You got the only family that he know besides
his momma in the pen with him
And all the oldschool comrads is in with him
I didn't have to ask him what he pulled them licks for
You get them pictures that I send you of my '64
Yeah , you know the one we always used to ride in
The one them suckers try to run up on the side in
We strapped quick as soon as he tried to get in
Never forget the dirty work you put in
Collect from the pen
[ CHORUS ]
The number you have reached :
5-5-5-4-7-3-5
Has been disconnected
You stupid muthafucka !!
Coolin' on the corner with the cellular phone
You could tell that the east bay was his home
More mail than the rest of the pushers
'Cuz he got a TEC-9 in the bushes, bushes, bushes
And that's how his shit was handled
First name Jack, last name Daniels
Had two boys named E and J
E had the nine and J the AK
Clocked on a street called Hennesy
Robbers with the muthafuckin' name O.E.
E had a bitch and her name was Gin
Had a nigga name Juice doin' time in the pen
You couldn't tell but Gin was a bitch though
'Cuz she was fuckin' some nigga named Cisco
E and J knew tonight they'd come
With two fat niggas named Bacardi and Rum
The caps jacked hoe and the sight was scary
The bitch was all bloody and her name was Mary
Officer Martini wiped up the body
And all fingers pointed at Rum and Bacardi
E and J told Jack the hotel
So Jack tried to bail Juice out the jail
But O.E. had the judge on a payroll clock
So Jack chopped the judge up and broke Juice out
And everybody's talkin' 'bout Gin and Juice
Juice shot Gin 'cuz the bitch was loose
Now E is shook thinkin' they ain't gonna get me
I round up the posse and call up Mickey
Mickey was big, he only sold 8 balls
Had 99 niggas up against the wall
E and J found out he made the call
So E and J and Jack and Juice 9'd em all
They were sent to the morgue and Mickey payed the bill
Got the money from the bitch, went to strawberry hill
Jack and Juice said Mickey wouldn't survive
But Mickey was slick, he had a colt 45
And now he's wondering how he got the word
It was a neighborhood wyno Thunderbird
You wonder how the murder rap got so much juice
It was a hundred 87 proof
Check it out
Check it out
Check it out
Mickey sent St. Ides after Thunderbird
Time for the hurricane he said word
Thunderbird in the alley way wearin' a beanie
Tryin' to get a sip from the cop Mr. Martini
St. Ides screwed up Thunderbirds top
Spilled his drink and gave 'em straight to the cops
But it's too late, Martini knows it all
Mickey and his boy OD were slangin' 8 balls
Of cocaine to the strawberries on the hill
So when he asked for Juice he got a quick fill
Mickey had his boy on burning block
The murderous cop killer Mr. Peppermint Schnapps
Mickey has this thing about nosey cops
And it made Mr. Peppermint lose his top
Martini off duty waitin' for the Night Train
Didn't know his wife Champaign would ever see him again
Peppermint Schnapps creepin' with the colt 45
Got a pierced cap for the train to ride
Gotta stay low and vibe, here comes the train
All the boys said the engineers Bartles and Jaymes
There was a toot from the train and then a gun blast
Martini fell on the ground, there was a big splash
Mr. Schnapps got up 'cuz the cops chased him
So now Mickeys in a vet in front of the station
Let you know Jack and Juice was undercover
And Jack was mad because Mickey shot his lover
There was a big shoot out and Mickey got Juice
He couldn't hang with the 187 proof
Juice was splattered and St. Ides and took a fall
And then Indo smoked 'em all
Check it out
Check it out
I'm tryin' to keep my aces and my deuces all together
I'm thinkin' of self-murder, I know I won't live forever
This chronic got me noid I need to get a job
But instead I wanna sell dope hang on a rope and steady mobb
I'm wakin' up in the morning thinkin' of death
As I break out in a cold sweat
I'm havin' dreams of a whole family put to rest
Visions of a dead man body bags
And all the youngsters gettin' their cap peeled over colored rags
I write about murder and death 'cause that's all in the hood
Comin' up strong while in crack, yo G it's all good
Describin' a way of life that they don't understand G
So I'mma keep breakin' it down until dey understand me
You see it's real G and jealousy it roam my block
That's why I'm never leavin' the house without my plastic glock
'Cause if they want it they'll take it and kill for it
And if it's worth sumptin' then blood gettin' spilled for it
My mother thinks I'm goin' crazy
And when I leave the house she just stares out the window
I think I'm being followed every time I leave my home
Havin' these fatal thoughts of gettin' chrome to my dome
18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote
18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote, blow
Did things up in the past that I regret at 22
And when I hit 23 I hope I'm livin' well as you
It's good to be alive in 93 I guess that so
But if I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go
I guess I'm just a soldier with a song out of the streets black
Stressin' of that chronic sack but I feel death is knockin' at my bed
Sleep walkin' with my pistol in the middle of the night
Wakin' up inside my hooptie holdin' my Glock full of fright
Violent in this art that's only because
It's comin' from a G to the heart
Got friends that have died and I mourn for their families
Bringin' flowers to dey graves every time I get a chance G
Nuthin' like a old school homie from the hood
Which are right or wrong doin' dirt doin' good
And now I know inside I'll never see my boy again
I fie myself always pour brew out fo my friends
18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote
18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote, blow
I'm keepin' all my pictures from my homies up in jail
If I told you what dey did it will problably turn your pale
I used to hang with killers and I didn't even know
Wrestlin' with my homies as a youngster age 4
Now half of dem is dead and the rest is in the jailhouse
Writin' to me monthly givin they homies sumtin' to rap about
Tell me do my music and don't trip off what dey say
Thinkin' to myself I might just be in there one day
Some stayed about the big house and still slangin' yay
And now dey stayin' under diction of feds everyday
Tryin' to wash their money they wanna go on tour G
Gettin' into the business learn about the industry
Try to help 'em out doin' everythang I can
I still gotta worry 'bout the next jealous man
My homies gettin' robbed so they rob somebody else
You can see it never stops let that story tell itself
I'm walkin' with my head down pervin' in the rain
Thinkin' deep askin' myself am I insane
I think about that daily and I'm leavin' on that note
And that's the definition of the 187 that he wrote
18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote
[ Ant Banks ]
( *burp* )
Aw shit
One of them fake-ass answer machines again
1-800-fake-ass-answer-machine
( *dial tone* )
[ VERSE 1: Spice 1 ]
Mi-ni-mi pickin up da phone to hear da ring-a-ding-ling-a
Mi hope ya not a cop, cause mi be slingin dem things-a
Da niggas up on mi block, dey got much love for da game-a
Jah man, just put your hands up if you slingin da caine-a
Mi got to get mi propers, if it snow, shine or rain-a
Mi pockets got di bumps cause mi so sick in da game-a
Gafflin muthafuckas, sellin em rocks on da streets-a
Ya want your money back, ya got to meet millimeter
Mi maxin up on the block with dis nigga from the Fac-a
Mi gots mi cellular phone, in the bushes was mi gat-a
Ya can't fuck with mi posse cause mi posse be strapped
Ya want your ganja, Xtra Large'll you a fat 20 sack-a
The 187, the Faculty is back up in the house-a
So roll up da canibus and put it up in your mouth-a
Geah man
[ Ant Banks ]
Ha-ha
Yeah, you tight with all that gangsta shit, partner, right?
But I heard you ain't the nigga you claim to be, right?
You one of them studio gangsta muthafuckas
So what's up with that, nigga?
[ VERSE 2: Spice 1 ]
Giggagiggada-gangsta, giggaggida-gangsta
S-p-i-c-e is a real one, and not a pranksta
Mi like to bust-bang, shootin em up, mi glocks hang
Shootin out da window of mi drop-top Mustang
Aim for da chest while Ant Banks hold di clip
Mi buckin em down, mi buckin em down cause for mi kilo mi killa
Roll up a 20 sack, call mi da gangsta mack
Look down da street and you see me, nigga, slingin crack
The dopeman set up shop on mi block
So call 187 line and order your rock-a
Geah man
[ caller ]
Ah yeah
This - ah
Liquor Store Willie - ah
I wanna -
I want some for 10 dollars
Can you do somethin for me for 10?
[ Spice 1 ]
Mi nigga Ant Banks, come down with di funky breakdown
( *inhaling, coughing* )
Damn man
This ganja gets you fucked up, man
Geah
Mi need lick up another 20 sack
Geah man
[ VERSE 3: Spice 1 ]
Mi kickin da rasta shit, but mi not Shabba Ranks-a
Mi Spice 1, di muthafuckin gangsta
Mi smokin da dank and it just might make mi kill ya
If you comin at me talkin about sinsemilia
Mi nigga G-Nut put together Endonesia
Mi call it Gaja, give me some fire-a
Can't lit di ashes, hits me in mi eye-a
Before mi lead bust got to get mi headrush
Even though Endonesia make me nervous
Mi got mi nine and mi coolin up on di block
Play mi for a fool, mi take his chest with mi glock
Let dem niggas know not to be rushin mi knot
So call 1-800 line and order your rock
Geah man
[ caller ]
Uh yeah
Uh this - eh
Suck-Your-Dick Sally from the liquor store down the block
Uh - I ain't got no money, but I'll suck your dick for a 10 piece
[ VERSE 4: Spice 1 ]
Before mi lay mi start, let mi say peace to mi nine
Cause in mi neighborhood young niggas do di crime
It's a ghetto thang to the East Bay Gangsta
The city streets make a nigga want to shank ya
Break yourself, now you fucked in the game
The killin dance is a goddamn shame
Money or murder, it's 187 proof-a
So Ant Banks, bust da gin and da juice-a
Mi signed with Jive, now mi Jive-ass nigga
Break down di doja, roll it up a little bigger
Mi watch da bitches cause da bitches a-gold digger
So D the Poet, won't you pass mi the liquor
The dopeman set up shop on mi block
So call 1-800 and order your rocks
Geah man
[ Ant Banks ]
Ah no, Spice
I don't want no rocks and shit, man
I'm callin cause I heard you was a fake-ass studio gangster
Ain't never had a gun
Ain't never been to jail
Ain't never shot a muthafucka
And I'm just tired of this fake-ass shit you kickin all over this tape
I'm tired of it, man, I'm tired of it
I ain't buyin it
Fuck that shit
You fake, partner
Fuck that
Fuck that
I'm out, man
[Intro: some dred woman]
Dere's no time for dem future
Come short wit me 9 milimeter
Body beater, doesn't pick up
Fully automatic collar point beater, uhh
[repeat]
[Verse 1: Spice 1, E-40]
Another whole fuckin clip and break down a nigga body, don't
think I'm bad, no boxin and no karate
Just a down ass nigga that you think you know
But you don't know is that I like to see you die real slow
So pull that motherfucker out and you'll be buried somewhere
S-P-I-C-E-1 of niggas' worst nightmare
I set the game from the killers I knew back in the past
and I'm tellin you if you fuck with me it's a slug for your ass
Ain't no more pilin up your faeces
cos niggas be actin like bitches
Pull a strap and don't use it, nigga that ain't smart
I know some niggas that'll take that kind of shit to heart
like me, bring it back e'rybody die
Spread fireworks make it look just like the 4th July
Have a sit, leave it laminated on the shelf
even though I'd rather do the shit by myself
[Chorus:]
Why you wanna funk when you ain't gotta chance
Don't make me have to make that call, aah-aah
Why you wanna go and pull a strap up out'cha pants
when you know you ain't gon' shoot at all, no no
[Verse 2: D-Shot, B-Legit, Suga-T]
Things are kinda cruel on the streets
Shit, ain't nobody really tried to fake me
But it seems nobody wants to fuck with me
Why is that? I had no son enemies
I got rid of every last motherfucker
for the simple fact I can't trust a
Nathan in this motherfuckin outfit
You come my way so ya have to die bitch
I make em lay down, I gotta playground full of hardhead
beanie-capped, triple fag goose wearin
wanna catch me loose starin at a barrel
Chances get narrow when I'm maskless, bearin thangs set to blast this
Enemy provider, fool I'm a ridah wit a driver
Keep the Uzi click switched on saliva
Neither you or crew that you pumpin
wanna see the Big Dogg about nuttin
Flow-a-matic automatic nigga to my 9
Paper chasin, I'm heavy on the mine
Every now and then a nut feels a bit dainty
Hoes by the dozens they really can't stand me
Swing my way you get your dome sprayed
[????] [????] fucked around and became my best friend
Every now and then I yell "Get the urge to floggy!"
like every now and then I yell "Call my daddy 'Boss'!"
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: E-40, Spice 1]
Eminate 'money over hoes', mistood a man named [?]"Xena spokes and vogues"[?]
Go on a rampage, beanie, smokes and clothes
Drunk as a funk, Wild Irish Rose
Graveyard don't track, nigga might as well
Put in some overtime, make that scrilla, get some el
Late night, greedy gut, major clientel
Money-hungry, same draw, same rapper will
Blaow! Biddy-bye-bye-bye-bye S-P-I-I-I-I-I
love to do a d-d-d-drive-b-b-by
Reach out, reach out and touch a motherfucker
with my nickel plated chrome, have you foamin at the mouth
When I fill your ass to the rim like brim
I got slugs for you, one for you and one for all of them
How could you play me like a bitch, I ain't no sucker
I put slugs in nigga's arms, chests, legs motherfucker
[Chorus]
Why you wanna go and pull a strap up out'cha pants
when you know that you ain't gon' shoot
[Spice 1]
[verse one]
dear lord, could you please tell Lucifer
turn the heat down, feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now, the block is hot
I hear the street demons callin
playin russian roulette
with thug nature, sky fallin
don't wanna die broke and alone, smokin a zone
with the homies in the car strapped up
with a vest on, lord please tell Lucifer
he need to turn the heat down
cause I'm convinced that hell is up on these streets now
the hood is on fire, niggas comin up short (short)
ashphalt burnin the sole of my jordans (jordans)
how long will I mourn my homies is gettin shot
not even mommys tears cool the drama or not
just gettin hotter, my homies can't take it anymore
sick and tired of bein broke stressed and poor
enemies, wanna murder me at 3000 degrees
wanna catch me on my paper route scoutin for cheese
turn the heat down
[chorus]
dear lord, can you please tell Lucifer
turn the heat down, I'm feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now, underneath my feet now
underneath my feet now, feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now [x1]
(Outlawz...)
[verse two]
its been a long ass road, for me and my dogs
late nights is cold and day times is hard
and everyday is a test, and god must be the teacher
hatin ass niggas, make me travel with my heater
and satan been waitin, on a nigga like me
since the day I was born homie I knew it was on
daddy gone, and now I'm left to raise myself
the devil playin games with me, got me lustin for wealth
so me and my homies went out to get it, no matter what
the lord I know it's wrong, but somebody gettin touched
and I can feel the flame, everyday I'm in the game
my homie died in vain, so now we ride in his name
are we goan ball or die, put it all on the line
get this money man, make 'em haters wanna shine
for makaveli, killer khadafi the prince
may the lord bless your soul nigga, till the very end
[chorus]
dear lord, can you please tell Lucifer
turn the heat down, I'm feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now, underneath my feet now
underneath my feet now, feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now [x1]
[verse three]
although you hate to be broke, even smoke with the folk
made alot of money dropped alot on the floor
did alot of shit I never done before
fucked alot of hoes never paid they cardinal
always blast first when it comes to this woe
its in my bloodline plus my daddy done it before
you never seen hardtimes why you fakin it for
you never seen another nigga with his brains on the floor
I think it's all for me to figure why you hatin me for
but then again I'm one of them motherfuckers that do shit broke
and then again I'm one of them niggas that'll eat off the floor
and I got pool massive blood what you askin me for
and you don't need what you think you do
and you don't really wanna die but I huck you thru
its gettin hotter on the streets tryin to kill who snitchin
and if you can't stand the heat then get the fuck out the kitchen
its gettin hotter nigga (punk ass nigga, outlawz shit bitch)
[chorus]
dear lord, can you please tell Lucifer
turn the heat down, I'm feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now, underneath my feet now
underneath my feet now, feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now [x1]
[verse four]
livin life hot to death we stop the press
stop to, catch my breath and count who left
you see this black rain pourin, they wanna see us prehistoric
you wanna see me in the county or the corener's
there's angels with me, so I can never give up
makaveli trained soldier, just aim and bust
from my mental that is, with a pencil that is
known got a old soul like he been to the bid
lil' wayne wasnt lyin, the block is scorchin
what gotta kill a cop just to stop the torture
watch the roads cause there really aint nobody to trust
a outlaw till I die you better ride wit us
we stand firm in the flame watch the face to burn
I get a blast from the past when the pain return
dear lord, can you please tell Lucifer
turn the heat down, I'm feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now
[chorus]
dear lord, can you please tell Lucifer
turn the heat down, I'm feelin the flames of hell
underneath my feet now, underneath my feet now
underneath my feet now, feelin the flames of hell
[Spice 1]
I been thuggin' since my adolescents
All of my homies and peers tucked in the killers
And pimps perfectin' their profession
Never confessin', or tellin' when they police possession
Snitches and bitch ass niggas pleadin' police protection
We turn the globe till the day we die (die)
Spinnin' the world on my finger like Alan Eye
Cali's finest, real motherfuckers fo' sure
And they don't make real niggas like us no mo'
It's a rare breed, I been thuggin' since eighty-five (five)
At the age of fifteen, yeah my draws hella high
With a thirty-eight snub (snub) bangin' on other pushers (pushers)
I even had the t-a-tech nine in the bushes
But now I'm pushin' Cali trucks and six hundreds
stand blunted, givin' slugs to niggas who got it comin'
We ain't ridin' for nothin' (shit) they don't front forever thuggin'
Suckers cross the game and suffer the re-percussions
[Chorus: Kokane]
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
[Tray Deee]
I'ma start mine checkin' with the hard time records
Lower class known to mash born to blast any second
It's that criminal, original, Tray Deee the imperial
Gangsta's spit anger through your motherfuckin' stereo
Dogghouse style with the chucks and curl
Off a bottle with my motto strictly fuck the world
As I bust a pearl and the chrome at your cranium
Whoever get wounded shoulda knew where I was aimin' them
Haulin' out the set fingers seen on my neck
But no comin' fourth to court cause my team is on deck
Insane to the fullest with the bullets to prove
Ninety-nine point nine per cent of you can't stand in my shoes
I gang bang for a hobby, murder, robbery and kidnap
And gettin' in my business, point this way you can get clapped
Now sit back and peep gangsta's fool
Now sit back and peep gangsta's fool
[Chorus: Kokane]
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
[Spice 1]
Teflon and clutsey glass, S-Class and escalade
Forty-five, calacoals, jewels and french braids
Niggas mean mug, I'm in the nature of a thug
Finna room to a tomb we boss playin' and blowin' blood
It's West Side mental, extra mash is my mentality
Niggas bite the bullet and end up with chest cavaties
Gradually fo'-fo' gon' make niggas define gravity
Got one foot in the grave and I feelin' my angels grabbin' me (damn)
Stablishly vicious up in the game
Seen a lot of raw and uncut shit up in these sterets mayn
"I Wonder If Heaven Got A Ghetto"
Pac died in ninety-six and I still can't let go
My fallen soldiers, love you niggas for stayin' real
I hope you see me thuggin' still rollin' with heat of steel (steel)
But it don't stop (stop), money, hoes I'm still rushin'
Still high as fuck, still heat and still bustin'
[Chorus: Kokane]
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
And around... mayn, thuggin' makes the world go
Thuggin' makes the world go, around and round
[Verse 1: Spice 1]
I'm platinum while I'm gattin, now that finger's shining
It's nothin to a boss to bust wit cut diamonds
I'ma dig it, ya fiend for the verbals, I came to spit it
Big boss like a 500 Benz to a honda civic
Comin wit it, hit it, as soon as I finished, they say he shitted
Lit it up and kept the slug from the jumps, fuck a critic
Y'all opinion is like a asshole, I stick my uzi in it
Windows tinted, Took a stop at the corner for some business
I'ma take 7 suckas, Put 'em in a line
And add 7 more suckas, Who think they can time
I'ma take 7 more, Before I go for mine
Now that's 21 suckas slumped at the same time
Ain't no haters in here and it's leather wood on the steering
We ain't trippin, Stash spot heat in the ceiling
1, 2, 3, 4 TV's and 23's
You can barely see the tides, It's the chrome when it gleams
In my thug world
[Chorus]
You can get it, you can kick it, in my thug world
Hustlin and ballin till the sun go down, thug world
You can get it, you can kick it, in my thug world
Ballin and hustlin till the sun go down, thug world
[Verse 2: Kurupt]
Skis, Spread out in the glass house
Skate through the streets like ice
Skates in the 68, Town rob skate
Rob skate, Bounce break, Bounce make the earth quake
I'ma show you niggaz bout a real g, Nigga
Most g niggaz, It's still me, Nigga
Bitches all around this motherfucker
Don't make me have to clown this motherfucker
You betta sit down in this motherfucker
Cause this is my thug world, Gangsta paradise
I'm all hood, Nigga, I'm all ice
No matter what you said, I done said it twice
No matter what you said, I done said it twice
Cooked on like rice, Surround like vice
Kurupt motherfucker, And the bitch is a broad
Even dick psychic bitches like deon ward
Thug world
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Spice 1]
I keep 3 bitches wit me: Ross, Crystal, And Mary jane
Mary jane, Mary jane, You know you're my everything
Smoke a pound back to back to back like the lakers
It's nothin like a motherfuckin old school player
Like the NFL, But I don't rush the quarterback
I'll rush the whole thing back and i'll pick up another slack
Mo chips than mandalay, Rippin representin the bay
But baby keep givin me the eye like everyday
Eyes like brown and skin tone coffee
I'm sippin hennessy, Gettin drunker than nick nolte
Straight so-soldiers, Drunk not sober
Sh-shoot you in ya chest, Let ya wind free like oprah
Green ones break down, We ain't fuckin wit charlie brown
We ain't rappin for peanuts, We want the meal tickets now
Narcoleptic, Sleepin disorder, Retrospective
Some niggaz try to ball in the game and got intercepted
We do it from dusk till dawn like tarantino
Hustlin till the sun wake up, The bambino
In my thug world
[Chorus: Spice 1]
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
[Spice 1]
Twenty five with an L, three strikes and you can't post bail
How many niggas is you gonna catch without a strap
and at least an ounce of yayo
I know some niggas that wanna smoke me G
But I ain't just rollin' up and catchin' no slugs
so these niggas can have their glory
Gotta bust back fast, do the dirt ski-mask, AR-15s' split that ass
Fuck the po-po, I'm the nigga with a gat that's quick to blast
I'm takin' a case, cause case is a nigga when I take my life
Spendin' money on straps - but an A.K. is pretty nice
Gotta watch my back, when it comes to my life it ain't no price
Sippin' on this yak, peepin' out some niggas shootin' dice
Niggas roll by, niggas pull straps
Niggas peel caps and niggas get slugs in they fuckin' back
I'd rather be takin' a strike, me get my ass struck
Niggas load back and put one in your fuckin' gut
Motherfuck Ken Gillson and that three strike shit
I'm rollin' with hollow tip hot ones and about three extra clips nigga
[Chorus: Spice 1]
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes and you can't post bail
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
[Spice 1]
5-0 fuckin' off my high, pullin' up under they glocks
Talkin' 'bout here's is his block, tellin' me I can't serve no notch
Yola, Coca-Cola, hustlin' for my fetty
kickin' them candy for them fiends blockin' it up and then you're ready player
But keep your eyes peeled, don't swing at least of all
they give your ass a strike, have you lookin' at cell walls
Niggas who slangin' them birds better watch out for your third
The judge'll trick a nigga and throw a fuckin' curve
That's when your ass is through, it ain't shit that you can do
Leavin' your ass stuck, out in your fifty two
Sayin' it ain't no sunshine when you're stuck in a five by seven
Twenty five years with a nigga that you don't know
better rap with some two-eleven shit
They got you sharp in the shanks put 'em in a hole and take
That niggas' crazy psychiatrists say his mind go blank
But youse just trippin' up off the nigga that you left dead
Thinkin' they wasn't wet them motherfuckin' slugs to the head
Damn - but see you in here now
should have got up on them po-po's, should have got off some rounds
Huh, should have got up on them po-po's, it goes
[Chorus: Spice 1]
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
[Spice 1]
What part of the game is this?
I wonder who thought it for the shit that they leave to crow
Livin' it up in the city it ain't no motherfuckin' joke
Yo niggas smokin', some niggas they start to hop and get to flashin'
Creepin' on niggas and shit, make a nigga have to get to blastin'
See Mr. Officer I'm just tryin' to survive
Gotta keep my strap on my side or like a tick for my life
When they come to get me, shoot up my body and leave me numb
with a boss nine millimeter at these niggas, and let 'em know where a G is comin' from
So don't try to put me in your concentration camp
Cause on my third strike a nigga like me just gon' straight up vamp
Three strike these motherfuckin' nuts, I ain't givin' a fuck
And you ain't takin' me out alive so you better be quick to duck
Fuck the system it's made for lockin' us niggas down
In the year 2010, take it out, now look around
See how many niggas is up in Tracy, Pelican Bay
chillin' in San Quentin, no rock, or chino where them killers and all the G's lay
[Chorus: Spice 1]
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
What part of the game is that?
One for possession, two for the cells
Three motherfuckin' strikes, twenty five with an L
What part of the game is this?
(Spice1)
It's the muthafuckin heist so don't ring the alarm 'G',
It's the b-o-s-s and s-p-i-c-e,
So, put this glock in yo panties (right),
and we gon rob these muthafuckas for every nook and crany,
My nigga g-n-u-t is up in side, he's strapped with the AK that's how us eastbay
niggas ride, Playa,
Ima spray these cameras wit this paint and when I do, Blow that old ass
security guard outta his shoes,
(Boss)
We'll ayo nigga gimmie the shit so boss can unload a full clip a trigga happy
bitch screamin yall dying muthafuckas are making us rich,
Creepin up slowly, 1 times on me they don't know me 'G',
Pullin licks to get rich wit 1-8-7 faculty,
(Spice1)(raggae)
Now we got to use the tech cause 5-0 bond the AK,
The 1-8-7 posse robbin the bank and away.
(Boss)
My nigga g-nut, What up?
(G-nut)
Nut up, cause we aint fena stop.
(Boss)
I'm goin kamakazi in the lobby before the robbery, pop, I killed a cop,
(Spice1)
Like Bonnie and Clyde call it the muthafuckin stick up,
Pick up, 85 smooth'll make this uzi wanna hiccup.
So kick up the cash for I blast with this jason mask,
Quit tryna fuck wit a pyscho path,
(Chorus)
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
(Boss)
I'm running up out the bank bailin clean to the bucket,
You probably neva seen a bitch that's showing you niggas a how to properly do
it, huh'
we blastd to the getaway, we spread away, niggas get getaway then that loot is
gettin hid away,
Counting up the cash but pigs behind us just as we was bailin,
I'm givin a signal to my muthafuckin niggas trailin,
And from behind a couple of pistols and some uzi's and I'm fena do them niggas
for them muthafuckas do me in,
It's kinda simple, shootem in the temple straight to the morgue I got mo'
niggas then the ??? in pyscho ward,
(Spice1)
Yo 'G' it's gettin deeper and deeper,
A muthafuckin flavor for the muthafuckin feva,
The feva for the flavor of a muthafuckin jack,
I look up in the bag 50 g's hundred stacks,
My trigga gots no heart and yo it aint no love bitch,
Nigga, talkin bout killin mutha fuckas dumpin'em in a ditch,
I must survive 'g' they won't take me alive 'g',
peepin out these niggas up in the van who been trailin me,
The coppers are comin deep as fuck just tryna catch a thug,
The only way I'm fallin is slippin on one of these niggas blood,
Not givin a fuck so yo what's up I hear a wild pitch,
Ima light this chronic and start some OK like coral shit, fena get a clip and
kill this bitch and get my cash on,
That's how we do it in ninety three I get's my blast on,
I thought we ditched the coppers rolled up in the cut 'g',
I'm bout to kill these muthafuckas that been follow'n me,
I'm pullin my gloc out hear the helicopters comin, Pigs had us surrounded
dropped the loot and started runnin.
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
(intro)
Yeah nigga
Game from the mind of some real motherfuckin' thugs (thugs)
Fetty chico up in this biaatch (biaatch)
Bloow !! (blooow)
(chorus) 2x
You wouldn't believe all the shit I see
(just a thug yes I'm only a thug)
That's why I spit this thug poetry
(walks like a thug talks like a thug)
Clown like a thug put it down like a thug
(spice 1)
Release me to the belly of the beast
The jungle made of concrete
Real niggas die in they sleep
The strong prey on the weak
We gets down from dusk til dawn
Like quentin tarantino shakin' niggas up
In the neck like (joe) pesci in "casino"
Fetty chico bailin' in buckets with bullet holes
Caught up in drug wars
Use current from cargos
Too much drama in my past time (past time)
I swore when I got outta jail it was my last time (last time)
Fuck one-time (hahahaha)
Pants saggin' twisted up with the braids
Leave the house 3 in the mornin 'fore the drug unit raid
Get out the cemetery visit my soldiers up in the grave
Tell 'em I miss the times when we used to get paid
Though I'm thugging without ya
Nigga I ain't forgot about ya
Daily weapin' on some mobstyle shit ? ?
And when survival is goin' around
Called the "thug disease"
Gettin' niggas like rats trapped in murder for cheese
It's thug poetry
(chorus) 2x
I'm just a thug (thug) yes I'm only a thug (thug)
Walks like a thug (thug) talks like a thug (thug)
You wouldn't believe all the drama I see
That's why I spit the thug poetry (spit the thug poetry)
(saafir)
Ay, wassup
This is saafir, mayn, check this out
Imma tell you like this here, mayn
These thug niggas, mayn
Look, let me lace you with like thug poetry
But now, I'm a rider though
So imma keep it mackish just lead me to it
Cause it's easy to do it but it gotta be fluent
Ohh shit this is bangin
Hangin' niggas with the microphone cord
That's my job without a rope (no)
Without a motherfuckin' joke (don't laugh)
Nigga I'm clean as fuck without soap
Keep my poetry like 'get out hoe' (get out hoe)
Bustin' like a .44, mr. motherfuckin' no-no from that hobo
Junction is the westbound campaign
When I'm away from the camp, mayn
Rollin' solo but stay loaded with slugs
Cause ain't no love hoe don't wear no diamond-studded glove
That superstar shit we'll get your ass put underground
Super-far trick (quick)
Like you fake ass niggas on some superhard shit
But never murdered
I'm a player that get braided up from the pussy
And never squirted (never)
That's game I hope you heard it
Cause I'm on a mad point nigga
Spice *weezy* serve it with some thug poetry
(chorus) 2x
I'm just a thug (thug) yes I'm only a thug (thug)
Walks like a thug (thug) talks like a thug (thug)
You wouldn't believe all the drama I see
That's why I spit the thug poetry (spit the thug poetry)
(spice 1)
I smash on niggas pullin' triggers
We leave 'em stressed
Never leavin' home without the medal plate in my vest
This is westside livin' (livin')
Hangin' out with the unforgiven
Different murders under they belt but ain't nobody here trippin'
We're all felons in this motherfucker
Dodgin' 3 strikes (strikes)
Niggas smokin' on that chronic weed leaf northern lights
Reminisce of the dead (dead)
Pourin' out a little liquor (liquor)
Got me drunk and passed out
With my fingers still on the trigger (trigger)
Havin' nightmares of killers tryin' to take off my dome (dome)
Wake up shookin' at bad dreams, is my sanity gone (gone)
I'm looking for a piece of my mind there was torn
When my homie stopped breathin' and died up in my arms
Thug poetry
(chorus)
I'm a thug yes I'm only a thug
Walks like a thug talks like a thug
I'm just a thug yes I'm only a thug
Bust like a thug cuss like a thug
Just a thug yes I'm only a thug
Smoke like a thug chokes like a thug
I'm just a thug yes I'm only a thug
Ride like a thug slide like a thug
Just a thug yes I'm only a thug
Blast like a thug smash like a thug
Just a thug yes I'm only a thug
Drink like a thug fuck like a thug
Hahahaha
Aahahhah
Aahahaahahaa
Fetty chico shiznilty
Aahahhah
Ebonic sleezie
Aahahhah
You know, you kneezie
Aahahhah
Rick reezie
Bi-ayy-iiitch (bi-ayy-iiitch)
