4-bromo-2,5-dimethoxyphenethylamine (Bromodimethoxyphenethylamine or 2C-B) is a psychedelic drug of the 2C family. It was first synthesized by Alexander Shulgin in 1974. In Shulgin's book PiHKAL, the dosage range is listed as 16–24 mg. 2C-B is sold as a white powder sometimes pressed in tablets or gel caps and is referred to on the street as 'Bees' or 'Nexus'. The drug is usually taken orally, but can also be insufflated or vaporised.
2C-B was synthesized from 2,5-dimethoxybenzaldehyde by Alexander Shulgin in 1974. It first saw use among the psychiatric community as an aid during therapy. It was considered one of the best drugs for this purpose because of its short duration, relative absence of side effects, and comparably mild nature. Shortly after becoming popular in the medical community, it became popular recreationally. 2C-B was first sold commercially as an aphrodisiac under the trade name "Eros", which was manufactured by the German pharmaceutical company Drittewelle. For several years, it was available in Dutch smart shops under the name "Nexus" as predosed tablets, however, it was placed on List I of the Opium Law after being sold without any incidents occurring, which led to the replacement of 2C-B by other phenethylamine psychedelics like 2C-I, 2C-T-2 and 2C-T-7 that were not controlled substances in the Netherlands at the time (but were banned later by the Dutch government, after being sold in smartshops for short periods).
Verse 1-(C-BO)
We got the warehouse packed from Lamborginis to Lacs,
more ruby an flame pack, than metro rap,
got keys on knees wit g's out of state,
flippin more yay than IHOP flip pancakes,
I'm a boss balla now, shot calla now
rose's Bentley's nigga fuck the Apollos now,
an these bitches be comin by the dozens,
true ballaz never love 'em, fuckin aunties an cousins,
got a have a ??? humble, sticky green gumbo
layin by the pool, hella full off gumbo,
rollin wit these g's, get R.I.P.
by dozen ??? to mini gages, to AR-15's,
see I don't trust a soul on patrole when I roll
4-4 I hold cuz I gotta shake parole,
you can stroll wit me, rock an roll wit me
but when the one times dip, caulk, unload wit me,
cuz I'm a killa, nappy head nigga, from out the valley,
best strapped
down, in Sac-Town, capitol of Killa Kali,
fool I comes heated, when needed, niggaz retreat,
when I blast pair of ??? an a mini 14 when I smash.
(Chorus)
None of y'all niggaz can't fade this,
west coast niggaz is the craziest,
we got that MOB mentality,
C-BO an S-P-I-C-E,
None of y'all niggaz can't fade this,
west coast niggaz is the craziest,
we got that MOB mentality,
Major Pain & Mr. Bossalini.
Verse 2-(Spice 1)
(Straight G's)
Pullin our straps on niggaz who thinkin they bodies is
made outta
teflan,
wit a 5-0 caliber in my right hand, an a G-LOCK in my
left palm,
Black Bossalini, can't see me, wit a Lexy up on my
wrist,
imagine this, a ballin ass nigga addicted to killin
shit,
??? cross soldier mutha fuckaz so nigga don't fuck wit
I seen niggaz that I done murdered up in my dreams,
when I be asleep,
strapped an I thank God, nigga chasin me callin me punk
ass nigga,
wakin up wit the finga on trigga
spittin hollow tip slugs that goes to figga,
wanna put down, my Cristal, drink Cristal an shit,
but niggaz Uzi think he tellin me I'm gonna die if I
sit,
so I MOB wit the old skool, wit a shot of chromes out
my window,
could it be the S-P-I-C-E wit a fifth of hin, yay an
indo,
Black Bossalini.
(Chorus)
Verse 3-(C-BO)
We puts it down like g's, swingin vipers an vests,
from Benz to Beamers an Lamborginis all on the set,
an keep it crackin from LA all the way back down to the
Bay,
I'm from the, valley, northern of Killa Kali, where g's
lay,
gots to keep yo head up, you slip they drop, they leave
you wet up,
blasted magnum taggin the fool of the big block we hit
him up,
eyes do or die, let 'em drip til they dry
two killaz eye to eye, never duck when bullets fly,
keep it crackulatin, like Pearl Harbor when we spit,
g's bump this shit, from ??? moves to the rip set,
trippin get split,
wit a magnum,
steady blastin now I done seen murder eye to eye
but my kids hope that I'm steadily fastenin,
ain't no love for you thats down at the end of my
barrel,
when I multiply my cash, ridin in my 4 barrel Camaro,
I catch ya slippin, I'm slappin my clip in, I'm puttin
it down,
you been hit from slippin an caulkin yo grip in my
town.
* author's note: this is the song that got C-Bo locked up for parole violation
You know I never was no choir boy
Ya folks got a, gang of priors
Maybe that's why the one-time's be triflin
Tryin to give a young nigga thirty-five to life
When I ain't even done nothin wrong, off-icer
I have no in-fo to offer-ya
He asked my name, so I came off the brain
Told him, "I'm John Doe and this is my hoe Jane"
He said, "Smart mouth nigga, don't make me do ya"
Put my thumbprint in his high tech computer
My name came back with a warrant, felo-nies
Now they got me down-town, spread my anus
Buttock, I'm like, "What the FUCK is it now?"
He said, "You robbed a liquor store; we know where, when and how"
It's foul, they got a nigga to' up from the, flo' up
My mom, in the courtroom lookin like she bout to throw up
It's a strong armed robbery, strapped in the commision
at my pre-trial conference, D.A. had a proposition
He said if I lose at trial I'd get the ? with the L on top
but take the deal he'd give me five with havin most of the charges dropped
Hopped on the deal quicker than blast, and said
"I admit that, but two and a half ain't bad I got getback"
They sentenced me to five, two I gotta bring
It's only strike one swing, batta batta swing
Chorus:
It's one-eight-seven on the D.A., cause they
ain't tryin to give a young motherfucker no leeway
Yes yes... y'all
One-eight-seven on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em all
You better swing, batta batta swing
Cause once you get your third felony, your fifty years you gotta bring
It's a deadly game of baseball
So when they try to pull you over
1 - shoot em in the face y'all
2 - shoot em in his face y'all
3 - take em on a chase y'all
Fresh out the pen, unrehabili-tated
Doin hella good, and my P.O. hates it
Hates Dick, she's a dyke lesbian bitch
Can't wait to violate for me for some petty ass shit
I gotta get a job, so I'm fillin out applications
Fightin the temptation, to slang nightshift, uhh
Minimum wage don't get it, five bucks a hour
don't cut it, man I ain't widdit
So fuck it, I went and struck it rich, on the dope sack
My homie gave me two, and told me to bring a fo' back
Now it's time for me to start havin thangs
I flips me a Coupe and painted it candy-apple green
It gleams, clear coat sprayed on thickly
Fools out to get me cause my shit is lookin sticky
I'm at the club and I can feel them suckers scopin
I'm knowin they plottin on me, but I'm still hopin
that they won't fry me, unless they wanna die
They will be, drippin more blood, than Mrs. Simpson was
Sho' nuff, ain't no bluff, here them suckers come
Got me reachin up under the panel to handle the forty-four caliber gun, uhh
Spun his ass around with one of the fat Magnum rounds
Got him on the ground makin funny sounds, ohh
I got a problem, witnesses ten
Positive identifa-cation
Chorus
On swoll in the pen, cellmates with X-Raided
Now I'm on parole, five years later
The Bo loc is ready to have me a ball
Fuck my P.O., I'm goin AWOL
And you all can suck this dick, I'm sick
and tired of goin through all this bitch-made shit
I got two strikes right now as we speak, and peep
I'm not bout to let you motherfuckers do, me
I'm petty with a prior, will buy your fate
With Wilson in the office, you gets no date
So I'm putting all my belongings on Greyhound bus #22
Bound to another state, me and my crew
Unpacked my shit, stacked my grip
California and Pete Wilson can suck my dick!
And if you didn't already know, that you couldn't
trust his ass, just look how he did Polly Klass
Used her death, and her family's name
so he can yank more votes, and political fame
It's a shame, that I'm the one they say is a monster
Juvenile delinquent, steppin out of sync with
but FUCK THAT, I ain't goin out, like a punk
That ain't my style, rip him from his asscrack
to hit nutsacks now, they wanna kill a nigga
like me I blast one blast two that's strike three
[Marvaless]
Yeah, ladies first so watch me set it off, even the
brothers can't touch us
Professional Ballers is what they call us, ain't no
tellin who we're bailin
Kentucky, Texas, ATL strikin in a Lexus
The nigga that wanna test this
Thought this shit was shut down, thought this shit was
dead like Makaveli
Cali legends keep it goin, bout this player shit I'm
knowin
Haters, I know you're bumpin this shit so here's
another *?daltz?*
From the Bay to the SCC, you heard us straight from
California's most
[Pizzo]
We don't need no practice, no theatrics
bout the way we be livin with the Mafia tactics, I be
constantly at it
Tryin to stack my riches like Bill Gates
Servin raw and uncut caine so you can't hate
Because it angers me when niggas try to bite my ass
But we be Professional Ballers hittin at the top-notch
Pass the green leaf on the left, inhale a breath of
chronic smoke
Exhale like a pro, I be too much for you to cope
Chorus: C-Bo
We steady countin our money, on a mission to ball
All the things we dream we wanna see before we call
So we pack heavy, push Chevy's, makin the 'fetti
If you're ready to holler at a Professional Baller
*repeat*
[Mac Mall]
Baby Capone on the loose, skywalk and fly shit
off Paraguay, Glock in the drop plus we're hidin
astronauts, turnin in shit for the soldiers that recop
Shoot outta state pushin killer Cali rocks
Big wreckin ball nuts and you can notify the monks
I be flossin in gators, maybe ??? ???
Tennis shoes, press our shit
Aliens gank and flew, runnin out to see you
with the loot
Interlude: Killa Tay
Yeah
West Coast Mafia, bitch
Everybody else can suck a dick
[Killa Tay]
I'm steadily tryin to get my bail on
tapped me up on the cell phone, it ain't far
Stomped in steel toes, I look out my ??? so back up off
The K-I-double L-A T-A-Y, call me the locster
Only smokes the bombest chronic, Professional Ballers
like the Sonics
Respect game, with or without these gold chains
We're sure the West got shit sold
from the rap game to the cocaine, come get some
Got pounds like a kick drum, got hitmen
Payin em under the table, lyrics fatal like a ninja
no pretendin, we're steady ballin
Chorus
[C-Bo]
From the Valley to the Bay, I'm known for stackin chips
My 500 whip be hip with the AMG hit
'74 drop Caprice, gold ones dip
Candy-coated sport, Professional Ballers don't trip
Makin moves, pushin luxuries to ol' schools
I spit the A-1, that's why my pockets weigh a tonne
And my crew be Mafioso's, high performance and low-lows
Professional Ballers on the go and get more doe
[JT Tha Bigga Figga]
Who keep it knockin with mean choppers? My niggas keep
it poppin
We're rockin, Professional Ballers, Figga-Ro will be
the tallest
player that you spot, duck or dodge?
It's all, turn the Impalas all skirty
Left em deserted, heat em where their pockets hurted
Sold it up by then, two quarters and half a flynn
with my nigga Bo-Loc in the 500 Benz
Ready to bust and make it happen fo' sho', so stack G's
with them 8-ball gangstas
and the young mack knees and that's for sheez
Now it's on, flip me at '7-8 Coupe
Reds, hydraulics, duece, representin the do
and you can trip if ya wanna, but, boy, you be's a
goner
Leavin bloody footprints from Sacramento to Palmona
I'm a dog when it come to this gangsta shit
A young hog from the block and never shrank to fit
Roll with the Hoovers and the E-C's, avalon watchin L-
Compton, Track New Park, the S-P-C's
Bakersfield, Fresno, Seven Trees
Duece nine outlies N-S-G's
My Bgz got to trippin when the homey got soaked
when they heard about the shootout that *?I so?* called
for Bo-Loc
As I ride, ride til I die
Best to hide, nigga, when I hit your block
I bring death on the suckers when my Glock is cocked
I got hops in my Coupe, a pocket full of loot
and it don't matter who start to funk when you're ridin
with the do
We just handle that shit like the locs that we is
Hit them niggas quick, fuck the bitches and the kids
Split wigs, watch graves get digged
Representin to the fullest, Guard Block Crib
Niggas wanna trip, well eat hollow tips
Never could you hang with my gang, no pain, no gain
Chorus:
Hoo-ride, mass slaughter, murder
Madmen, deadliest lyrical server
There is no higher, they gets no curver
Get em up close range, empty fullies and get further
*repeat*
Who got that gangsta, gangsta shit?
It be the niggas who got the biggest nuts and the gat
that packs the
fullest clip
Gotta have more chips than a grab bag full of Doritos
Keep your bitch broken, make sure your pockets stay
full of C-notes
Hardcore gangsta, fillin out a 20 year old nut
Gotta keep composure, puffin doja and it got me stuck
I'm down your strip, hopin I can pull a lick
Got an extra clip in case I have to zip a nigga's lip
Oh yes, my Dayna's look quite lovely
Pull up on your bitch's pit while you and your crew try
to mug me
Huffin and puffin like, daddy
Gotcha ridin out eight-deep in your '96 Caddy
You tried to fuck but could do nothin but make my dick
hard
You tried to dump so I had to creep and pull your whole
card
Ya best respect or get checked by the Smith & Wess
Fuck a vest, hollows hit harder than a math test
Chorus
I never stop bringin pain, it's difficult for haters
Never spit game, the same speakers are our greatest
Make ya take your last breath, fuck it, where my
payment?
I'm blazin up doja, this soldier regulate your
statement
Some niggas is bangin, some niggas' just about the cash
Some flatline snitches miss me, look up on ass
I avoid the drama, tricks never to be toy with
Get as high as you want, irrelevant who you fuck with
Eight off, ran from the lead, cock the buck shit
You're whole mouthpiece spillin discharge, to verify we
hit hard
Women do these timbos
Mind style missions, puttin the mashdown on nymphos
My son, labelled the Funky Nigga, plugs wit everybody
that's sittin on dividends, we filin down fully pants
Rapidly goin down, ain't comin back around
Release rounds, just terrorize your town
If you've got a ton of big face hundred dollar bills
How much money would you have?
And every hundred dollar bill weigh a gram
and there's 28 grams in an ounce and there's 16 ounces
in a pound
How many pounds is it in a ton?
Got to be about your uhh, uhh, uhh.....
Verse One: C-Bo
I slide thru, the 5-double 0 drop S-C
'97 Sport and shorts and matchin jew-els
Worth about a quarter, mil-ticket is how we dress
True ballers fakin meal tickets up in the West
I know you wanna touch us cos at the clubs you ladies
rush us
cos we're all about our cash, luxury livin and hoes
love it
Havin money by the ton, Rolex and Bossalini
A nuchi give Versace cologne, now wanna see me
at my best or worst? I gets paper when I burst
repeatedly, heated, dumpin low-low's, you know I'll
burst
To get my cash on, I spin the A-1 dolla
For money by the ton, come get it with no soda
Chorus: Mississippi
Money by the ton, that's the way it comes
We all, get paid
Ooohhhh ooohhhh, we make
money by the ton, that's the way it comes
We all, get paid
Oooohhhhh
Verse Two: C-Bo
I'm all about the paper, nothin can come between that
but Lexus, fully diamondback, and bald caps
Holler "Thug", that's what we be, who you see?
Steepin out of ragboys, cornises and Bentleys
Six million dollar homes, we stays to the flow
Now how much cash can you stack in a twenty thousand
pound boat?
It's money by the tons, fo' sho' homey and all hunds
And if ya get past the gate, cameras and pitbulls, you
can have some
Flossin, no one flosses like bosses do
but caution, when they float cos the wrong step,
bodyguards swoop
to protect those, diamond Rolexos
Sippin that XO on chromed-up leaky's and Lexo's
I put it down, pound for pound, surrounded by the
millions
Fancy cars, movie stars tryin to make a billion
Come show them my cash bundle, you are a pocket
addicted to money, they can't stop it, it's daily comin
by the ton
Chorus
Verse Three: C-Bo
Now how you picture mad loot, stretch Rolls and rag
Coupes?
Big faces laced, I want all my dollars brand new
I stand true to the game, on loot to the money train
Rolex's and diamond rings, big bodies with the blowed
brains
I bring the pain to get the cash like Jesse James
Til the wild wild West is drained by Major Pain
Who got the loot? Big bodied Coupes and S-Classes
And when we swoop, kickin the loot or catchin casket
Load up the rigs, with crazy big-faced hunds
Headed for the drug, still weighin it by the ton
Cos money makes the world go round, stackin off-shore
accounts
Waitin on the
So be a baller, got to keep it on the slunder
Milli'ns by the hundred, transactions thru account
numbers
More money than you ever seen in big faced hunds
Comin in a hundred and twenty million every ton
Intro: (Voice speaking)
You rang
Is you down kichy, or even might love to me
Payin', bangin' another time
Look we got the trigger to quicker the caper
Fools leavin' they guns,
from the guns to the care to the bed to the scoop
In this life ain't nothing they can think off
But working overtime, nigga
Some motherfucking hard labor
Verse 1: [Kastro - Outlaw Immortalz]
They got my,
Kickin' in dust, dirty
Bust me, they must be dreamin'
Trust me these cowards heard a murder
And they ain't tryin' to see it
They got 'em in there
When I was to young to be in
So now I'm comatosed, shellshocked and barely breathin'
But,
still I respect the game
Test me, you ain't Hussein
Outlaw like Josey Wales
Too tough to try to change
C-Bo, they take me, change no
We just slow at home
Ready for war plus we deadly
Verse 2: [Young Noble - Outlaw Immortalz]
I remember when one of my teachers told me
That I ain't shit, and ain't gon never be shit
Look at me now bitch and fluwed your kid with this
Now we're rainin' on our enemies
Hennessy got me critically,
suddenly, instantly
Knew their planin' with my misery
It's to me from Makaveli the general
Military mind, outlaw with camisole
Critical condition for that hoes he fold
It Hard Labor, knowin' this rap shit might save us
Not from death, but where we came from
Chorus: x2
[Napolean - Outlaw Immortalz]
Nigga, all we do is act a fool is stay thugged out
(Thugged out)
And the first nigga that act up was gettin' thugged out
Change the paper...
[Young Noble - Outlaw Immortalz]
...it's Hard Labor
Made the biggest plan that niggas makin'
Sound aped, cause it is rapin'
They can't fake it more
Verse 3: [Storm - Outlaw Immortalz]
Gotta make more warriors
Runnin' through my veins
The story's told while the game's the same
Fuck the world with your money, man, play the game
Got stuck with your heartbeat, who's to blame
What you know what I want, when you're bad as yours
Got a vision of my enemies hittin' the floor
From Makaveli to my Outlawz, I back 'em all
Keep your mind on my riches, when I even the score
First nigga where you at, speak, friend of fo'
Got a 9-G locked, it's for if you fall
Shoot first, let's play no different face
I die for the shit, nigga Hard Labor
Verse 4: [Kastro - Outlaw Immortalz]
Pick up my block, cock
Please not wanna put a stop to my plot
They locked my bitch up
And even tried to lock in my pops
It's Hard Labor, my moms, you craw me thinkin' to major
Mad, cause, nowadays too many hoes is on my pager
Pussy and paper
Pencil, politics and praise you
Chase you and even chase me
Straight to the penitentiary
Nigga, the hard life, hard fight and hard capers
Nigga, we're all thugs, overdosed in Hard Labor
(Voice Speaking):
Walked in the club and said a nigga drugs do us all
Looked up and see my nigga Big C-Bo
Verse 5: [C-Bo]
Check I was born to this life ,a sin, as a young thug
Releasin' stress over (?) gin, laced with mud
From day one I knew is wasn't no motherfuckin' love
They use to jump doin' hands and now they jump in new
as lust
I was confused first to see a church
on this hell on earth
But it was them fools first to took earth
for what it was worth
I was raised in this great community,
when there was no unity
And niggas be on they own,
as soon they reached (?cutety?)
Be you and me
Runnin' back, in a Cadillac
Fresh of a jack
With two straps in a Pontiac
With only one life to live
I guess the Lord had only one life to give
It seems so trifully, bought a hill
This fast nigga's life's a sin
It's hell on earth, ain't nothin' worse
Than givin' birth to kid
Talk to sin until he buried to dirt
It's been a thug life since day one,
when I was thugged in
Ballin in a 600SL
drop top with the fat V12
Money hella-long, smoke blunts not a bong
Niggas can't fuck cos I crunch em like Kong
I be deadly as The Predator
My .50 calibre Desert Eagle'll spread ya, and behead ya
Pistol wieghs a tonne, bullets come like a guillotine
Poisonous tips hit and explode thru the war scene
Like morphine and heroin, I'm the shit
Every dope fiend needs a hit
Gangs need to stick at this gangsta shit
to take that monkey off their back and have em gettin licks
I'm the neighbourhood's drama, dead man's trauma like O-Dogg
and Kane, I'm loc to the brain, got the afro
padded, fully automatic decrease the statics
Two fingers spreaded, hittin em up and let em have it
Chorus:
Desperado outlaws thru the dirt
Sendin BG's blastin, puttin men to work
Trapped in America to die in these bloody streets
Goin head up, with suckers all psyched up in heat
*repeat*
Murder, murder, kill, kill
California's the state where most caps get peeled
back, catcha, pigs on a stretcher
Three strike law got us livin under pressure
Know he wanna take mine, hand on his waistline
Side of his spine I get to dumpin with the Tek 9
Got his back smokin, crack that ass open
Bullet holes the size of a token
Got his ass chokin on piss and blood
Crooked ass piggies don't get no love, uhh
Life or death, a .4-5 Smith & Wess
I had that nappy-headed ass stretched
If you try to dack me in my neighbourhood, I'm dumpin
And ya best ta run cos my BGz is comin
Clips full of teflons, loc'd out and crazy
and they won't stop til you're pushin up daisies, uhh
Chorus
Body snatcher, caught up in a rapture
Black heads explode ya flesh when they capture
You don't wanna see me in my beanie wit my locs on
Ol' school mouth wit no *?style?* gettin my smoke on
.4-5 stormin, rainin and pourin
Mobbin down floorin, psycho like Norman
Bates, no trace, no murder case
Innocent like OJ
House niggas get scoped by the revolution shooters
Fuck *?Glyn Craig?* then we gunnin down Cooper
Cos he wanna send all niggas to the pen
Thinkin that they fucked but Gz don't bend
Never been a snitch, *?Mark Keane?* can suck a dick
and fuck John Green, for bein prejudiced
Never liked rap, and did a nigga from a scrap
Yea me to the max, but I'm back, piggies
I see so many murders in these Cali streets
I load the strap in the battle, won wit death to get
beat, who ever thinks
of defeat?
When in , I keep my eyes on the prize
Cos ain't nobody killin me, I be the Big Gangsta
>From up North, no pain, no gain
Nigga, fuck the fame, slide the chips and serve caine
Cos I'ma pack a pistol til' I die, bitch, and fuck you
pigs
that got me down on that hitlist, I know you're
followin me
You're round in my 500
but I commence to shake you piggies while I'm gettin
blunted
My nigga 2PAC died and now you hoes is hunted
I give a fuck, I'll buck you down and stare, whatever
you're comin
I gun em down like a chump bitch, and leave em
neckless, front seat
like a stamp, bitch, run up and load another clip
and then I vamp, bitch, this gangbang mentality be
havin me amped
I like to smoke bomb-ator, mean and rush a hater
Put a rush in gators, shoulda seen when I sprayed her
Live fast, die early, no heart, no glory
25 with a L cos the judge couldn't feel my story
Oh no, not me, I got kids to feed
Shoot my way out any situation til' death do me
Part from the streets, it's mandatory, got packet ???
And I jack it, it's major dope when I rap it
Chorus:
I'm all in for the paper, big bases I chases
I keep a Glock on the side of my hip when in unfamiliar
places
I stay ready for ridahs, see I know how they think
It ain't no killin me before I dump caps in they bod-
We be the Big Gangsta, think quick, like karate
smash all the pranksters, makin hits like a Got-ti
Drink nuttin but the best, X-O, Hennessey
And when I dies, an outlaw ridah is how they remember
I bounce into the club, drunk and seein doubles
That's why I got twin Glocks so I can bust both of them
bubbles
You're runnin from the rumble, this sound is terrifyin
You're hearin death callin, now you're scared to die
Prepare for the annihi-lation of player-hation
You're calicos is blazin, never known for grazin, I'm
shot but it's amazin
Butts haulin on the pavement, holy mother, place him in
a casket
Murderin all them bastards
Loc'd on in, sex, from sack that's major
Pain, that 50 calibre and nothin
That's when we spark that wing that park, y'know the
deal, shot stop
Everybody drop and watch the Bourbon Bill
You was fuckin with some true, soldiers
So when the tides had turned, you started snitchin to
them rollers
You got fucked in a bad situation
My thugs got the L but the po-po's didn't know the
situation
Chorus
I'm at the peak of my age when niggas, test, hack onto
bullets
thru your vest, and if your funks real-ly, I'm about to
cut you ??? ???
Invest, this game that I be givin, I'm tryin to heal
your soul
So we can all be known for that dough in *?rotty's
vault?*
But if they wanna doublecross, we can do that too
Take em out the trunk, fully cocked wit two Glocks
Extendo clip, infrared light, put these vest on our
chests
Murder, death, kill em, oh yes
Investiagtion on them Mob Figgas, no perpetration
On the job, my niggas mob niggas, across the nation
Pacin like a pimp, walkin witta limp cos my, calibre
holds extended 50 round clips in a server
Plugged off Hennessey, the doja got me in a zone
Fo' a ho-zone, mad at niggas, whole hood sewn
Ridin wit a Tek if you wit reals, set the clip
With the infrared beam on your bishop, A-P mean on ya
All soldiers from my first generation just in case
All the damage left survivors, we official struggle
strivers
Can no pressure make me crack? Sit the fuck back
Traumatise your whole click, enter this, enchant tricks
Got they gillholes workin, lacin em wit two textures
That top-of-the-line impact, regulate on my track
Smash down on your shit, clown when the truck dip
Like boo young buckshots be shredded, servin *?clocks-
er?*
Still acts suspicious when it's time for 2-11's, got my
pocket-size pistols
Breakin em my 7
if the shit ain't skanless, you'll never read my Mafia
mind
Soldiers killin anybody tryin to pull his behind
Gotta do em bad, I'm tryin to make a million like my
big homey Bolo
It's time to make a killin
Chorus: C-Bo
All I ever wanted was a pair of Nikes
A Lexus, a mansion and eternal life
Maybe what it was, I was askin for too much
Prayin to God, thinkin 'did he give a fuck?'
Twelve years old, I was always told
Every day I want it, that glitter ain't gold
But fuck that shit, I want a twelve inch dick
A Coupe, a chrome, and a money makin bitch
Verse 1: C-Bo
A 'Lac, front, back, man, I wish I had it
In a brim, Rolex down wit a automatic
I be the shit, pimpin hoes from Cali to Louisville
Strip em for money in Magic City and the A-T-L
Cos see these bitches ain't shit but investments
And they ain't worth shit unless they makin profit
I need a money-makin bitch to satisfy my needs
Some pussy, dough, diamonds and G's
So when I swoop in my coupe, out to get my loot
Collect it from hookers more famous than Betty Boo
It be that, legalised pimpin that's keepin me above the
water
Fuck a bitch, get rich and live the life of a baller
Cos a broke bitch ain't nuttin but a downfall
Unless she cement her money and her mind, y'all
And wit straight-laced game is how ya take control
I been practisin the shit since twelve years old
Chorus
Verse 2: Lunasicc
One foot in the grave and eleven inches insane
Psychotic nigga named Lunasicc, squattin out them gold
thangs
Slappin these bitches, y'all can't be laggin on the
payroll
Let's get your ass right back to the track before your
face get steezo
I'm cold like the winter, get up in your flesh like a
splinter
I dash with the cash then mash on the gas, prepare a
hog for dinner
Creepin when I'm sleepin, my bitch ya want coasted
by the window, wit an AK ready for niggas wit their
gunplay
Cap peelers, drug dealers, I thought you knew
that if you fuck wit one of my niggas then you're
fuckin wit the crew
We roll deep like sheep, always strapped wit some heat
Original gangsta, fuck a prankster, ride my nuts like a
beat, huh
I'm bout it, bout it, but niggas like you, I doubt it,
doubt it
I come thru, drinkin blue lookin bout it, bout it
Ready for the gunplay, move the crowd like we the O-
Jays
Blastin like I'm crazy out the Colt wit my .3-80,
Mafioso
Chorus
Verse 3: 151
Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe to Reno
Bitches on the highest floors of the casinos
Butt naked, checkin money by the G stack
As I pose at the crap tables, sippin on yak
I'm just a baller, wit a grip of money-makin hoes
Might catch em fo'-deep in a C-Ville on triple golds
Wit cell phones and pagers as if it's on a grind
So to keep em an X-rated pussy is a goldmine
I'm on a major mission to increase my stacks to the
highest climax
I'm wrapped up in my safe and G-pacts
Crackin like green weed sacks, for slangin, for danglin
youngstas wit their pants hangin, gangbangin, .45
stangin
Ain't no tamin, aimin, accurate, we hit em off and slid
em off
They get off in the Valley, immaculately, sippin
rally's
Winners are stackin chips up like alleys
From Seattle to Cali, the North of Valley, nigga
Chorus
Verse 1-(C-Bo)
My first name is Smith, my last name is Wesson,
but in yo hood I'm known as 357,
have yo neighborhood punk quick to shoot a man,
an have Clark Kent thinkin that he's superman,
wit six in the cylinders chambers, I'm the cup of curs that got ya
feelin like the ultimate banger,
but some fools misuse my abilities, doin drive-by shootin everything
they see,
I'm quick to cap it in yo life if you tempt me,
playin Russian ruelet but is the cylinder empty,
fully loaded fool, you shouldn't have been trippin,
then you wouldn't be holdin yo head in yo hands to keep yo brains from
drippin,
I'm a lethal weapon registered in everythang,
used by the police, dope dealers an yo local gang,
I'm the hardest mutha fucka alive, right in front of yo eyes, kill any
man wit the quickness now who the fuck am I?
(Chorus)
I'm Mr. Tre-five-seven, quick to peel a cap,
I'm yo friend to the end, you know I got yo back,
I'm known to every trigga finga so everytime you squeeze,
I'm kick out so much heat I'm bringin he-man to his knees,
I'm Mr. Tre-five-seven, fool you know me,
I'm the reason why yo punk ass got locked up for that murder bee,
cuz after all I'm only a gun, an a gun ain't got no love,
remember that when you fill me up wit them hollow point slugs.
Verse 2-(C-BO)
Mr. Tre-five-seven, I send that ass to heaven,
quick to murder mutha fuckaz, an quick to pull 211's,
I turn a big bad nigga into a cowardly lion,
an if he's thinkin about jackin, boy I'll keep his ass from tryin,
see I don't give a fuck, pull the trigga an I'll buck,
when you rollin wit tre-five, fool, whoever steps is suicide,
I never been a snitch, but if you do some crazy shit,
you besta have a hankerchief to wipe the finger prints off yo grip,
cuz if you down I'm down, fool, it ain't no half-steppin,
I'm a leathal weapon, juss point me in his direction,
an ain't no tellin who I'll hit so you niggaz better run,
I'm Mr. Tre-five-seven, that's any kind of killaz gun.
(chorus)
Verse 3-(C-BO)
No one can hang, I'm the downest on this earth,
no regrets, no sorrows, no remorse when I burst,
I hang on the side of your task force an the waist of yo neighborhood
killaz,
might catch me up under the seat, or ridin in the lap of yo dope dealaz,
I'm known to robbin banks, jewlery stores, an 7-11's,
some use me for protection, an some use me for 1-8-7's,
it's best to call the police if you think you see me comin,
but whatever you don't run cuz you might tempt me to start gunnin,
I kill at will, quick to spill guts when I bust,
an when a habit drops, you mutha fuckaz can't touch,
mo deadlier than a pitbull, when you locked up in my sight,
so stay up outta my path, an beware because I bite.
[Chorus]
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre]
"Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop Dogg]
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre]
"Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop Dogg]
[Verse 1: C-Bo]
Top down, side ways through the town
Suckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round
Lets who ride and buck these suckas down quick
Pop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip
Straight to they sto', breakin they ass off something
proper
The gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers
Cuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94
So put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's
45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag
P-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets
I guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on
We load the high explosives talons when the ?sweats on?
So put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the
one in the deuce
Drop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue
It's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim
Pop the clip with a mack-10
Hop out the truck and drop that grin
Cuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus ? paper G
So make way, ?? Mack at ya front teeth
Cuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo
life
So don't be starting
You wake with fullies strapped at your bed side
Chiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game
Who ride, and ? old records. Get your face re-arranged
Cuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks
In the strip, poppin they clip
Puttin in work, letting it rip
As they keep fallin
the day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin
No time for stallin
A .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.
Cuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the
brain
It's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only
one gangst'
Proceed with caution
uz like hoe suckas, I be tossin
Dead bodies are bridges
One to the head, then broke out in ditches
Before you step to the psycopath lunatic
H ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!
[Chorus]
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre]
"Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop Dogg]
C-Bo: So listen up for the cock
*gun cocked*
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre]
"Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop Dogg]
*gun cocked*
C-Bo: So listen up for the cock
[Verse 2: C-Bo]
I woke in the morning with a .9 to my head
thinking that I'm dead
Surprised to see the TAS and the damn feds
I knew it was over
Bo Loc done got struck in the game
Po-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of
'caine
And I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'
Now on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case
Damn I'm struck like the ? that's all I can say
Cuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days
In the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with
bad luck
Where suckas be getting that ass tucked
It's off the ? and off the buck
And I believe in eight millions of ways to die
Cuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked
Then you believe in getting fried
Snatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his
punk boys?
Got crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid
But I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure
Last night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still
got me doja
And I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'
Shotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights
Then out the do' on my - face
Hands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin
me like a slave
Cant fight back cuz I'm shackled
from my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna
wrestle
They drug me down to the county
Took three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the
ground
G, the stuff got hectic
Getting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.
Im coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs
For every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids
One kicked and missed, slipped in my blood
I made a G-move
So ??? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on
I'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on
187 dance on these punk suckas
Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta
Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho
With the Garden Blocks it's all about survival (echoed)
[Outro]
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre], "Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop
Dogg]
{*gun cocked*} [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre], "Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop
Dogg]
{*gun cocked*} [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre], "Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop
Dogg]
{*gun cocked*} [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block
"187 don't stop" - [Dr. Dre], "Cuz it's 187" - [Snoop
Dogg]
{*gun cocked*} [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop
[chorus]
California's the state, where punk niggas die.
First thought be survival every mornin' when I rise.
So many murders and homicides in front of my eyes.
It's just some ballin'-ass niggas down to die for the
West Side.
California's the state, where all bustas die.
First thought be survival every mornin' when I rise.
So many murders and homicides in front of my eyes.
It's just some ballin'-ass niggas down to die for the
West Side.
[Verse 1: C-Bo]
It could be the napalm, droppin' non stop bombs,
Armed like vietnam, dominatin' like King Kong.
Lyrical madness, step up, take up, and start blastin'.
Wicked as Stephen King when my mental and vocal
clashes.
Syrran wrap, like a boa constrictor, wrappin' ya.
Up from your feet to your neck, nigga, attackin' ya.
These 4-5 hollow tips will have you backin' up.
I only do my dirt at night like dracula.
[Verse 2: Lunasice]
I'm wanted by the feds, these niggas, they want me
dead,
Cuz I done spread through their territory like the HIV.
Sun down spots, suckas swallow glocks.
If they know by these rocks I'm pushin' for the blocks.
Every corner you past, that show will run him up in his
ass.
Gettin' the cash, while Mr. Bad puts down the smash.
I dumps quick, my clique be so thick,
With hi-tech mob shit, crooked as Soviet.
[chorus]
[Verse 3: C-Bo]
The house on the water, independent shippin' quarters,
Movin' tapes like K across every border.
Takin' over your brain, causin' addiction like 'caine,
More deadly than a grand shot of Heroine in the vein.
Inflict pain, on any nigga that step in my range.
Retalliate with hollow tips, blast, and splatter your
brain.
So remain calm, this shit is C-4 bomb,
Set trip off your motherfuckin' city like 'Nam.
Best recognize, step up and check eyes.
Ain't to many busta-ass niggas from the West Side.
I do or die for mine, livin' life like I'm blind.
Solo on a flame line, dumpin' hollow tip 9's.
[Verse 4: Marvaless]
Survival first, ask questions later.
Movin' patterns on your bitch-ass cuz I heard that you
was a hater. Oh who
can save ya?
Defeated your purpose, now you caught up in some deep
shit.
Who got the deepest murder clique, that's some would
sick.
This game is way past wicked. Still I commence to kick
West side niggas stackin' meal tickets.
Surpassin' weak bitches, evadin' snitches, and sayin'
bomb.
Killafornia style when we ride droppin' bombs.
[Verse 5: C-Bo]
Palay Palay, Tommy Hilfiger cold, can I?
Polo, Jabo, Guess, Khakis and Levis.
Ballers is what they call us, too much for the ATL.
Lexus, Benz, Beemer, Vet, VIP, 112.
Might catch me at the Platinum, sippin' on some Hen,
rolex down,
Ride ST 400 Lex through the town.
Clown, and you'll catch a hot metal tab up to the
chest.
Don't make me kill a nigga out east and head West Side.
Till I die, reason why, I stay high,
To maintain my composure and attitude when I ride.
Don' push me, I'm too close to the edge
Might take one to the head.
[chorus x2]
[Verse 6: C-Bo]
It's the season of the sickness, marks on my shitlist.
Comin' up out the psychadelic bui'ness, don't sit in
When I gets to bustin', I let loose like a Mac-10.
I'm born and raised a hustler, got love for my family,
fuck friends.
Never been disgusted, but I just like love it,
Wit my streetsweeper, put hoes in your bucket.
Man, I just say fuck it, I can't live with society.
Now, how many niggas in yo clique wanna ride on me?
[Yukmouth]
THUGG LORD !!!!!!!
Salute!
Whut bitch, aiight, AIIGHT!
We got a bitch ass nigga in our presence
A fucking imposter
Get yo ass up nigga
Whats up nigga
You ain't no mothafuckin made man
Money don't make you no made man nigga
The mob make you a made man you bitch
Now get on the floor nigga
[Yukmouth]
Nigga shank yourself
Nigga stab yourself
Nigga spray yourself
Nigga blast yourself
Nigga's packed with wealth
Though I come through fast and stealth
Your fuckin stack get dealt
Now they on thier self
Like massika blast to kill
Never try to graze niggaz
Just cause you a paid nigga
That doesn't mean your made nigga
You Gay nigga
I pay niggas
To spray niggaz
Lay niggaz down for the gray glitter
Send you to the GRAVEDIGGAZ!...
Ready to die I aint afraid nigga
I make money, money never make.... niggaz
I break niggaz
Wake up with a .45 pointed in your face nigga
Now where the safe nigga
I take your rolex honeycomb face out the safe
I gotta get my money on straight
The South is gay
These phony ass rappers is fake
About to hate make a move out of state
Regime Killerz about face
Aw hell the Thugg Lord Salute Me!
Put 21 guns in the sky nigga rush yours
Cause none of yall niggaz want war
Fake ass CB4, Gusto still Yuk flow whut the fuck for
We I walk I scrape my knuckles across the ground
Guerrila walking across town beating down Blood Hounds
Yall niggaz sound like Mystikal
Get some skills thuggin on wax I do this shit for real
BITCH!
Chorus: Yukmouth [C-BO]
You aint a made man you made yourself
Give that bitch an AK let him spray yourself
Hey!.........
Alot of niggaz get paid to wealth
Now they shit just stay on the shelf
Spray Yourself!!
[We made men, paid men, that made it all]
[Born to this shit and ready to ball]
[Spray Yourself]
[Rather then kill ya nigga on the wall]
[Nigga and stick the motherfuckin Ten up in your
drawers]
[Spray Yourself]
[C-BO]
Now who the fuck is these weak rappers
Acting like they real but thier fake phony cuban
zirconan actors
The Mob father bringing it real for all the mobstars
While other niggaz in this game to win an oscar
Scared of mobstas
Can't do a concert unless they are paying themself
Can't get a real bitch so they lay yourself
Heeeeey!!!!!!! Heeeeeeeeeey!!!!!!
Can't get the pussy unless they paying your wealth
You motherfuckers need to spray yourself
What! What!
Heard Bossaline a major pay per event
Now we gon see you on some murderous shit
Have you heard of this clique
Thugg Lord
Yukmouth close the door
Lets take these Toy Soldiers to war
Remember back when you wasn't shit
At my hotel with the bundles of shit
Give my a hundred g's to bust on your shit
And I touched the shit
Real niggaz that had enough of this shit
Going platinum without a nann nigga bumpin your shit
Now tell me
Weak nigga how you do dat deah
Westcoast Mobb father bitch we don't care
You must of bought your own shit
To you they shoot your own shit
Came here without poppin your own deal its on bitch
You must forgot when I helped your ass out
Back when you was rollin around town in a glass house
When I see how I might light that ass up
See if you westbound bitch you better gas up mash up
bitch
Chorus: Yukmouth [C-BO]
You aint a made man you made yourself
Give that bitch an AK let him spray yourself
Hey!.........
Alot of niggaz get paid to wealth
Now they shit just stay on the shelf
Spray Yourself!!
[We made men, paid men, that made it all]
[Born to this shit and ready to ball]
[Spray Yourself]
[Rather then kill ya nigga on the wall]
[Nigga and stick the motherfuckin Ten up in your
drawers]
[Spray Yourself]
[Yukmouth]
Alright
Ready to talk yourself marching
I be startin a war so just marching
Parking the ??? in front of the mansion
Fuck apartments
Fuck that shit you talking
Bullshit be barking
I often smoking blunts on my doobe in your coffin
Rap-A-Lot niggaz boss ballin'
Shot callin'
The come to be the boss my niggaz all flossin'
See many loss ends
Trying to keep up
Sell Cheba
Next tell selly a thousand Rap-A-Lot beepers
Smoke reefa
Regime Leader the prime suspect
Something like Puff but I got a new millimeter I ain't
bust yet
It ain't a fine bitch a senorita I ain't fucked yet
I pop X
I rub sex
They love this Thugg shit
Niggaz say Yuk next to take the West over
The fuckin best blower
Chronic catch and sess smoker
The AK 47, Uzi, and Tec holder
I'm the nigga you heard stressed over
And get no rest over
Nigga wrecked by the neck screaming with sweat on ya
Go to sleep with a vest on ya
Cause I creep death on ya
Pull my Tec on ya
Hop on dubs and skates
Sinceraly yours the nigga you love to hate
Lil Bitch!
Chorus: Yukmouth [C-BO]
You aint a made man you made yourself
Give that bitch an AK let him spray yourself
Hey!.........
Alot of niggaz get paid to wealth
Now they shit just stay on the shelf
Spray Yourself!!
[We made men, paid men, that made it all]
[Born to this shit and ready to ball]
[Spray Yourself]
[Rather then kill ya nigga on the wall]
[Nigga and stick the motherfuckin Ten up in your
drawers]
[C-Bo]
It's 1994, gang-bangin' done played out
But I still stay strapped cause I don't wanna get
played out
On the concrete with internal bleedin'
Moms at my hand screamin': 'Bo, don't leave me!'
I'm stairin' in to the sky, thinkin' that I'm gonna die
Here come the onetime, fuck the pigs, they are the last
I wanna see
Pen and pad, no love from the deputy
Onetime's gettin' deeper
And Finally I hear the ambulance creep up
I'm feelin' dehydrated
They hook me up with some I.V. and a life flight
Sayin' that I'm gonna make it
Hoo-ride was the first thing on my mind
But the onetime got prints from my Tec-9
They busted first and I busted back in return
Ain't no love for them faggot ass baby worms
That's all I gotta say to porky
Now get the fuck out my face
Detective got mad but I can give a fuck less
I got family and they won't let the shit rest on my
side
Bald head mean muggin' locs, 3-10, 6-5
Is my nigga Teebo, Big Ikey hittin' like a viking
Insane in the brain and can't wait to ride, see
No matter what they do, you can lock me down
But at twelve caught a ghetto fligt
Cause there still be smokin'...
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
[Pizzo]
As I've seen deep in my thoughts
Not thinkin' of my senses and all the blood I done lost
It seems like I'm stucked with no luck all of a sudden
So mothafuckas swiftly sweeped on the P-I double Z-O
I was helpless, if ya could have felt this pain
I had in my side and my brain
Never think that I could end up on my back, player
I never thought a slug could enter through my skin
layers
Fuck! I feel a burnin' sensation and I'm waitin'
For the pain to go away but I know it's gonna stay
So I guess I'm fucked in the game
Then appeared a bird in the sky, don't know where it
came
Snatched the P-I double Z-O quick, took me on the trip
Don't know which direction, I'm waitin'
Felt like I went cross the continent
Seems like it took a whole day, then we touched down
White coats all around, suprise, I'm alive in a
hospital
Done lost half of my soul, I feel I left control
I'm slippin' away, I took my life for granted
A few hours passed and I still feel stranded
I'm awakin' to see shit in front of me that I never
seen before
But I feel alright, then I tripped that I just took the
ghetto fligt...
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven...
They ridin' on my bumber, bustin' with a Mac-11...
[C-Bo]
My homie took a bullet in the kidney
HK in my hand, down on one knee
On his side, Q-Ball don't die
Mad as fuck and I don't understand why
The little B.G.'s didn't bust no caps
After a minute shoot-out still had a loaded strap
Damn and they supposed to be hardcore bangers
And I got the only empty cocked back chamber
Prayin' for my homie not to rest in peace the shit
Just ain't right to take a life from an O.G.
Retalion is all I can think
Negative and incorrect, here comes the P.D.
Damn, I got a gat and my homie don't look too good
I hear the bird over the hood
Now I got faith he'll make it
Without a doubt the next album's dedicated
To my homie Q-Ball
Rest in peace and fuck the rest of ya'll
So-called homies, I don't the meanin' when I'm hittin'
ya down
But when I'm gone ya wanna see me
Ain't no love in this Garden Blocc life
And I won't sweat to put a bullet in your chest
[Chorus:]
We flip more birdies than Colonel's chicken
And I ain't shit without my niggas and my bitches
why'all can't see me, 3-D on T.V.
We the T-H-U-G-L-O-R-D's
[Chorus]
[C-Bo]
why'all niggas that don't know me why the loc be
frontin?
Just 'cause 38 a day I'm bluntin, trey 8 for nuttin
But in case for the waist for bustin, close range erase
your bluffin
Like major snuffin, blaze the oven
Boiling hot everytime I drop
Metaphor get caught get addiction like rock on the
block
And my glock closed down shop
It's like "Cops" I'm a Bad Boy
Catch me frontin back in the rag, boy
see-Bo keep niggas all up in they peepholes
But hold up I'm lethal like blowin up a Regal
Full of your people, Desert Eagles to your kids
I'm sick and I can't help myself
Somebody please help me before they melt me
But naw dog you ever felt me
So it's a must that I clutch guns pop pills
To keep my feelings real, illings will but hold up
It's a bust of the dough blow up
I bet that I make the world get these Nike's like sho
nuff
[Chorus]
[Chorus]
[C-Bo]
Teck, I'm Cowboy the pistol holder, the missile loader
Call me Christmas, death wish under the missile toe-ah
Off of Crys will I piss or throw up? They diss and load
Roll through the scene with a peace sign as they get
blowed up
Mob figure til I die, Westside off the roof with the
bubble lie
why'all don't want no trouble, guy
You rap about all that ice I could had that
Grab that, make you stab that and blast that but I'ma
pass that
We ruthless, we get em up until they toothless
Killin me on the West Coast nigga it's useless
I run from Seattle to Dago with my lasso
Callhourt to Paso, new force from that Avanal
29th Street to Avalon
Long Beach, Compton, Watts, E.C's and Magnums
357, Ghost Town, Gebermona
Hoovers and 6-O's the rest better get ghost
Fuck with real niggas that bang
Not a bitch ridin a dick or the next nigga gang
With a teck that I stang from the neck to the brain
When I step in the range I get respect you know I flame
Boilin hot, make my gat roar on the spot
Disrespect the block fuck how much they got, the cops
When my weasel go pop you gets the last sound
If he ain't dead when I dump then we beat his ass down
[Chorus]
[Chorus]
[C-Bo]
I pack two glocks, drop bodies with two shots
Run a code if they got bitch it's gots on the rocks
When my pen and pad connect, plaques I collect
Then gats I collect to keep these nacks in check
You want to handle this with guns the stamina, son
I run tons for Pamela, one show shit forget the dough
I'm all in the get the blow
Fully automatic, cuzz, you know how shit get go
Flipmode when shit work more than a ship load
And a grip flip like in a double zip code
Your whole city locked down til the big bird drop
Cut for the recoppin color gettin for the block
Dancin, ballin snortin coke at the mansion
Add a mill plus like what the fuck
Ecstacy pills and kill, boy we play in the fields
And that 4 mill we spent sittin way in the hills
[Chorus]
[C-Bo]
Yeah, that nigga C-Bo and Dat Nigga Daz
Puttin' it down nigga for the real riders...
Fo' sho'
[Chorus: Daz Dillinger]
Everywhere I go niggaz be hollerin' out my name
Wanna know what set I claim and that gang I hang with
And ain't another damn thang changed
All y'all niggaz, y'all can't fuck with me, we throwin'
up the C
Tell me what y'all wanna do and how y'all niggaz really
want it to be
(What we doin' Daz?, what we doin'?)
We just Crippin' (Crippin')... all night
We just dippin' (dippin')... let's ride
[C-Bo]
It's C-Bo and Dat Nigga Daz
In a 'four rag with a auto-mag and tag
And blastin' niggaz up out they boots
Two fingers spreaded up out the roof
21-Gun Salute, and crush son like Big Pun
Nigga I'll die for 29th Street like Daz would die for
(2-1)
Call it connect gang, wreck thang
Disrespect - I'll swing a tec man
For the Garden Blocc's and for the Insane
If you down for your gang throw your rags in the air
Flag the motherfuckers like you just don't care
I'ma ride for mine, do or die for mine
Southside deuce-nine, Long Beach Eastside
We gon' - ride together, slide high together
[Daz Dillinger]
We gon' Crip and die together, gettin' high forever
C-Bo, Daz Dilli - servin' other niggaz in they city,
gettin' gritty
Scene's gettin' shitty, roll a Vega or a Phillie
Now it's time to get stupid on the really
High, stoned, roam, wherever I roam - put meat on my
bone
Me and C-Bo with kilos goin' zone for zone
My tolerance is anonymous
Coke, weed, cops, feds - homie I'm droppin' 'em
Four pills will have me in a mood to kill
Prepare for your blood to get spilled, that's on the
real
(Fill a nigga up to the rim with the cold steel!)
Connect like rhino, and we explode like dyno-mite
How many niggaz gettin' killed tonight?
Is it you, you, you - and all of you?
In the back flossin' your style with the motherfuckin'
mack
Goin' clip for clip, 'bout my business and chips
Fly whips and gettin' dipped, and takin' no shit
You see we serious about this, delirious about this
Curious about this, it's pitiful without this
How you gon' come to a battle without a gun?
[C-Bo]
You'll get done fuckin' with deuce-nine and 2-1
[Chorus: Daz Dillinger]
Everywhere I go niggaz be hollerin' out my name
Wanna know what set I claim and that gang I hang with
And ain't another damn thang changed
All y'all niggaz, y'all can't fuck with me, we throwin'
up the C
Tell me what y'all wanna do and how y'all niggaz really
want it to be
We just Crippin' (Crippin')... all night
We just dippin' (dippin')... let's ride
[Daz Dillinger]
I guess the war's on, get your soldiers and let's go to
Put in work motherfucker, even the score
Mini machine guns, grenades, and .45's
Get crazy in the land when it's hard to survive
Catchin' niggaz slippin' if they Bloodin' or Crippin'
On a mission, blastin' niggaz if you all with it
You see we bang for a livin', use the gun, drugs, and
prison
Niggaz doin' hella time over these scandalous bitches
Back looped out, smoked out
Hit another one, I'm bombed out, smoked out
So we go swerve in the glass house, and we roll the
street
Off-brand niggaz roll up on us and we pull out the heat
I said "what's up?" - he replied with the wrong set
It's my duty and my job to put this nigga to rest
Boom boom - shots from the tec rain out
Another enemy gone, that's what I'm talkin' about
Niggaz yell my name out and say they gon' kill me
I ain't worried 'bout a thang, y'all niggaz can't kill
You see my homies is killers and we do this for passion
You better get your strap 'cause when you see me we
blastin'
And when we run up on you, ain't gon' be no askin'
You better get your strap 'cause when you see me we
blast
[C-Bo]
It ain't no future in your frontin'
You bitches is straight hoes
Which niggaz wanna scrap with the Bo?
I'll peel his cap with the fo'-fo'
You niggaz gon' die tonight, Crip card gon' ride
tonight
Niggaz wanna see Bo the hardcore?
Dump niggaz in the sea
Mini-14 leave a nigga slumped in his front seat
Approach me - I'll jam a Magnum through your teeth
Hoppin' out the Bentley high, saggin' down to my knees
Screamin' out "thug life", dump slugs in the air
Livin' in a mansion with no neighbors and don't care
Drinkin' Crystal out the bottle
Since the life of luxury's been stuck with me
I've been smothered with models
I'm a thug nigga, won't die alone without takin' a life
And I'll shoot a piggy in his face for a third strike
You can cremate me or just send me to jail
Don't give a fuck 'cause I was born in Hell
[Chorus: Daz Dillinger]
Everywhere I go niggaz be hollerin' out my name
Wanna know what set I claim and that gang I hang with
And ain't another damn thang changed
All y'all niggaz, y'all can't fuck with me, we throwin'
up the C
Tell me what y'all wanna do and how y'all niggaz really
want it to be
We just Crippin' (Crippin')...
We just Crippin' (Crippin')...
We just Crippin' (Crippin')...
We dump slugs, and fuck thugs for their drugs
When push come to shove ain't no motherfuckin love
Bow down, we just hit the town
But we brung shit like Hitler, bail em with a Sigma
Switch with the first shot, gotta check the spot
Burnin rubber out the parkin lot, pointin out the
window
Stuck off indo, bumpin my nigga C-Bo
Bitches all in my business cos they think I move kilo's
I, call my people's on the mobile, gang all over,
nationwide distribution
Now I'm posted up in Houston
Texas, ridin the Lexus but it's supremo
Niggas set trip, a solo weapon is essen(tial)
Keep the pepper spray on my car keys, only fuck with
hard Gz
Still get my ball on like Clark
Nothin but the California hoggin me
Touchin triggers, real niggas, straight doggin freaks
Chorus:
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
We take the occupation when movin, my hustle never stop
Check what? Some babies camera's peep the blocks, stash
the Glocks
Posi's squashed, ship ki's and here there's thousand
dollar bidders
Rim hats with feathers, more money than Perry Ellis
Never known behind ???, talkin "let my nuts hang"
Trade ya the .4-5 and the Tek 9 for a drop Mustang
A long line of killers, drug dealers with stripes
Just schoolin, you're rollin pontentially, could take
your advice
We count big face and straight laces by the hundreds
Ragtops and big blocks, gettin the money
Sippin X-O Hen, and I get it for the 1-10
In a convertible Benz, fearin hunted, on twins
They call me Bo-Loc, and fo' sho' I smoke the dodo
and flip the '97 Sport to shake the po-po
High rollers count, tall dollars will never fall
In this shit for the cash nigga, enter, forever ball
Chorus
We are surprised in this rap game
Straight gangsta shit makes the world go round, I'm
nuttin nice
On a dice, bets are more wet and crush ice
X-O, stretch Rolls, Bza's and Lexo's
And fuck the best hoes, and never slippin like Magic
Johnson
Keeps my cock down, increase my hatto, from Sac to
Compton
Rolex down, fools shot up, solid ice
The gin in the cask was still followed by the vice
In the S-Class, we does it on the gas
On my cell, Bo poppin my collar, all about my cash
How many diggers can you scat? Now picture that
without the feds on your back, homey, and that's a fact
We attack with Mac 1-12's to protect my sack
I pick up my pack, tellin the order "handle that"
It ain't no room for you busters cos we knuckle ya
downfall
Player haters, fuck y'all, let these ballers all ball
Chorus:
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
C-Bo, Floss B, hehe yeah money, power, respect
Yeah yeah uh huh, uh huh West Coast uh huh West Coast
uh huh
Other side you know how we ride, uh what?
[Vesre One]
Oh my god, times here are so hard
Baby brothers in trouble and mothers got no cards
The oldest of the pack got to bring the food back
I'm packin a magnum on one of the hottest corners,
movin sacks
Duckin from one-times, life in the blind got me pointin
Squeezing triggers for freedom and dimes
My homie Tone caught a bullet in his chest
They said they heard he was pullin in the west
Retaliation is a must that we run em down
Wit fully loaded high powered rifles and gun em down
Everyday in my city some where someone bites the dust
If you here hope you with a city nigga you be trust
[Chorus 2x]
We down for Money, Power, Respect
How much you hold on yo neck?
How much you roll on that Lex?
[Verse Two]
You know it's crackin on the Southside so I hopped in
my Reagle
With the homie Lil Stoke and ofcourse my Desert Eagles
And it's like an All-Star Game I mean we 10 to 1 with
business
And we platinum down surrounded by killers sittin on
switches
Ain't that a bitch? You set trip you bound to get set
I'ma get my respect nigga I don't give a fuck what town
it is
Cuz I'ma respect yours and you gon' respect mines
And if it ain't correct I'ma check with the tech 9
Nigga I'm a Thug Lord ask my mama
Yeah these niggas got it made but they don't want no
mutha fuckin mama
No fuckin drama, no comma
As I bounce in my rounce with a mirror on the trunk of
my big black ass
[Chorus 2x]
[Verse Three]
Connect the dots I done shot through my enemies spot
Then you can plot to get half of the stripes that I got
My Chuck T's tounges tucked, hung for the sprung clubs
Duck or get struck, no luck with this young buck
Young truck, how the fuck I look in the sell stuck?
Dick in a man's hands gettin my nuts sucked
I'm bossed bangin, leavin all those crossed hangin
Slangin death at a high cost, that's nina ross hangin
Do, re, me, fa, so, la, say hola to the misses
Bow down and kiss this pistola
Run up wit ya gun up and get done up
I'm one up, from sun down to sun up I ain't givin none
[Verse 1: C-Bo]
What? yeah it's war now this is what we call war
You either respect us ride wit us slide with us
Nigga anything else is obsolete regime life bitch
No love for them bitch niggas that wanna see me under
That's why I step in the car with my forty four
Revolver thunderrrrrrrr I bang them like war missles
Leaving nothing but brain thizzles close range
But slug no pistol got off like king kong
Pushing more cream than ding dongs got the whole city
lock
And I'm dropping more kicks than wing chong
If it's a muder yea I knew it if it's personal I do it
You can't fuck with me loc I even had red rags to it
You get choke innocent by standards get smoked
Why you think I stay in a vest nigga this is west coast
The best coast with that sunshine and that ass tagging
top down in a 64 with the ass dragging
I'm a menace and I'm in it for it all like I told
Lil keke and yuk I'm in this to ball
Fuck ya'll nigga to witness this is westside
Troops got a whole crew red and blue and I send them
Straight to you
[Chorus: repeat 2]
It's war fuck your enemies on site, we smash
Do this shit like Biggie and 'Pac on site, we blast
This is the west you gone die soon
It's def when you slide to 10 G'z for your head
Nigga that don't mean shit to a tycoon
[Verse 2: Lil' Keke]
You niggas want war get war dink chore as I cock the
heat
And proceed to split yours niggas talk a lot of shit
But they don't really want beef
Known dam well when I slide by hit them wit heat
If it's on then it's on nigga then let it be
I be patrolling your hood with archiball reef
Ready for war thug lord said it before when shit get
hot we blow the spot
We see door we take action let's get it cracking
Pistol packing thought you was smacking
Shoot your muthafucking back when my niggas
When my niggas talking shit my niggas popping shit
And no time for talking bitch is dropping clips
Ain't no love nigga live from the west you best sleep
With a gun and a vest in your nest I ain't going
Out with a fucking slug in my chest I bomb personal
muthafuckas
Throw them label them a threat it's war
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Yukmouth]
Thug lord this is the high to pack a lighter tommy side
of drama
Fuckig timer I eat these niggas alive like jeffery rama
Phantom of the opera feds be chopper copper fuck the
monster
Copper thug lord period niggas want war bust yours if
your
Serious our niggas is furious I got the hard core
fearing this
Rugged and raw lyricist carried this by the killing
shit
My blast will leave niggas crying that how real this is
They feeling this menace the nemisis they break bitch
ass niggas
Vacate the premisis kill they protective witnesses
My niggas straight business with a hundred rounds of ak
Say say everyday raw going down like may day
Major gun play I'm a no limit solder be the roller
Heat holder talking practice on a master pee poster
bitch
[Verse 1]
Ain't no runnin my thugs in coming to come gunning
Running down pound for pound dumping them rounds
Catching a beatdown these outta town niggas stay
thuggin
Mustlin and hustlin to try to keep from strugglin
Bubblin on the block with a mouth fulla rocks
Packin a glock with jackers plotin on the spot
We ride till we die bullets fly through the night
We load clips spit hollow tips till they all ride or
they all cry
I thank the LORD for my living
You hollering and ballering without a dam thing giving
I'm rolling with thugs in the v thugs on dubs and no
love
If you don't get money like a scrub if your money ain't
right
You better fall boy
If your money is tight you gone fall boy
I'm from that westside where we ride
Throw your dubs in the sky fuck'em all we ball till we
ride
[Chorus 2x]
Here we come, boy
Better raise up off the spot
Here we come, boy
Better hide or not
Here we come, boy
Why you cuffing that broad
She gone lose or choose the nigga that got it all
[Verse 2]
Hummers we come gunning them down drastic
Blasted the bastards off they muthafucking asses
Closed casket toward those that want to have it
Fuck a speech make peace in the street with automatics
I'm starvin like marvin niggas so fuck fast
I'm getting mines with my gun with my mask straight
mashing
Ride by you bitches watching that ass cry
If I ride on you niggas you better blast or die
Smash or fry I'm in jail raising heck
Put down your gauge and rag nigga and get mail get mail
You's money is funny cuz you's a dummy
On the block hop on your veins nose all runny
Cloths all bummy your hoes all on me
And it's all for the milk and honey I count money like
a bank teller
It's all mines in this gangster shit I'm the greatest
of all time
[Chorus 2x]
[Verse 3]
Witness to hurder me never I stay focused
Blast till they disappear like rukus fukus
To escape death is hopeless
I open fire with teflons on you bitches till you smoke
Reminiscing on my past days addicted to my bastard ways
I'll be a thug till my casket lays
Dear LORD will you help me escape prison
Success and freedom is my only possible mission
Tried to violate my freedom of speech pete kip
They punk violation was weak eat a dick bitch
Didn't think a thug could rise above skies
It made me to push a bently witness me drive by and
fuck parole
Till I fold all you pinkies against me
I opened fire like gerano I pack a glock and lick shots
Like 'Pac on cops and won't stop till they all drop
punk bitch
[Verse 1: The Jacka]
I'm thugged out enough to beat your fucking ass right
I'll make your best rap wack with a rap right now
Cuz I'm the jacka the calidod pack the yay sacker
Tell your bitch to shut the fuck up for I slap her
Yea the jacka the spectacular my hold makes me
Look like dacula plus the young mob nigga that's
smother shit
For the scrill my real niggas noting know who it feels
[Verse 2: Fed X]
Put your guns up gather your troops up
Your shoot wasn't bust out but your aim wasn't good
enough
You claim killa you did what I did
but I'm a natural born killa you and me at the same
nigga
You get your gun tooken to war about to jump off
You fell to the floor you should close your eyes
Didn't jump off get your mack snatched use your own gat
You know what I want run this shit or get your skull
capped blown back
[Chorus: C-Bo]
Bitch open your eyes and realize that you cry on ya
Cover your head and duck when bullets flying on ya
When that ak spits you can't save shit you on your way
To your grave bitch we born killaz
Open your eyes and realize that you cry on ya
Cover your head and duck when bullets flying on ya
When that ak spits you can't save shit you to your
Muthafucking grave bitch
[Verse 3: Hustla]
Shot caller now hit the block park the car cock the
chop
Nothing but street star hustla hustla nigga what
Like my pops hops to diction hustler I'm spin shots
Watch before your watch visits
I'm in your wrist watches is not a movie
Your favorite rapper catch a slug in his booty
on the ground, screaming like a bitch
caught the whole click thought he knew me nigga huh
[Verse 4: C-Bo]
Mini fourteen holler from out the window
Can't handle the static get stuffed in the casket
murder
Them bastards grab my ak off the shelf
Find the destination and send them niggas to hell
My occupation is a must that I stack G'z
And I done hit more licks that the these
Believe that I'm loco with the pulled off fo fo in your
front door
will have you butt-naked taped on the floor
[Chorus: C-Bo]
Bitch open your eyes and realize that you cry on ya
Cover your head and duck when bullets flying on ya
When that ak spits you can't save shit you on your way
To your grave bitch we born killaz
Open your eyes and realize that you cry on ya
Cover your head and duck when bullets flying on ya
When that ak spits you can't save shit your to your
Muthafucking grave bitch
[Verse 5: Ridah]
I was too young to understand why they shot at me
But how can I remain a solder at ease and let the
release
THE FAG they try to get me to participate
Not at this rate and see my though strong try to
recoupe me
Before I'm there and gone like the Apostles
[Verse 6: ap9]
Stuck in this world without no help
Niggas don't know we play for self and for keeps
Late night streets when niggas dump heat no retreat
Cuz the feats on my tracks
without my five eating off this platinum plaque
for the fact that niggas ain't shit so they blaze
Turn the page off the rage in a maze
When they can't squabble fuck stuck in a face off
Soaking up more coke as I erase you job
Better duck when the bullets fly
[C-Bo]
I hits em up with a two finger
Out the roof of a regal
And combat fool
I m knowing to pack a
Desterin egal
Niggas know the rules
Under pressure from pete wilson
And all these new laws
For filling my draws
And never pause a straight hog
Fuck some dogs we want it all
Real nigga third
That dump slugs and share hood
You know what s up cuz
I put the dick in the mud
Know the california mind bosses
Stay surrounding with thugs
Get at me
Cuz my shit be a 100% real killas
Stranded in the ghetto paying
For protecting drug dealers
The love niggas
Down and dirty that plug niggas
And slug niggas in the face
With one of they pistols
And mug niggas
It s all about the power
So I count my money every hour
Hope my choppers devower the whole hood line
They cower
Like the duck hower
We leave em plucked fucked and burning
Feening fo mo money as the world keeps turning
Nigga
[Chorus]
Round and round as the world keeps turning
My enemies burning
My enemies jurn these burning
When it stops nobody knows
I m busting slugs and fo s
I m busting slugs and fo s
Round and round as the world keeps turning
My enemies burning
My enemies jurn these burning
When it stops nobody knows
I m about to catch the do
Catch the do
[AP-9]
My henn full of smoke
I broke the flow to a nigga toe
Plus I m fresh out of dope
I need some mo
Cuz that s all I know
I be balling till I die
They wanna see me fried
For being a good guy
Through my eyes I m
Heck living barely breathing
Smoking weed with my og z
Ride till I d-i-e
Young G blessed in the dope game
Big boss and brains
Capping a nigga up in the game
My niggas with caine living
Life in the fast lane
Get a job nigga
Shoot and rob nigga for scrilla
Nation wide thug nigga
Me mug niggas and drug nigga
And slug niggas for the court phoney
And blow they ass up like pretty toney
They keep the rollies
My ap nine stay cocked
My mind military barely scary
You make a move your getting buried
In the cemetary
Thugged out beat it
Undefeated better believe it
When it s on as the world goes round
We blasting niggas with the chromes
[Chorus]
Round and round as the world keeps turning
My enemies burning
My enemies jurn these burning
When it stops nobody knows
I m busting slugs and fo s
I m busting slugs and fo s
Round and round as the world keeps turning
My enemies burning
My enemies jurn these burning
When it stops nobody knows
I m about to cash the do
Catch the do
[Spice 1]
As the world turns
We all get paid
Some niggas be shot up in graves
We stacking these meal tickets and
Leaving my enemies froze up and sprayed
Mobb cars and training these bitches trying to kill
We on some thug shit
Niggas be bobbing the steel killing at will
We on site and mobbing the fuck out
Leaving niggas taking their last breath
Money and death
Dam my foes in combas stuck in the darkness
Mutha mix with half keys
Shot em staking in the alley
And niggas can t see these natural born killas
Up in cali
It s hardcore drama
Niggas be down up in the streets
Streaking heart beats for weeks
And enemies won t get no sleep
Mob techs and guage
Slugs we be dumping to the graves
Rearrange muthafucka pay
Bossaline with about three thangs
And a half a key to spend a daytin
Shooting po po up in the basement
And tryna to pull a nigga over
If muthafucka can t shake him
And a nigga won t rest in peace
Till my enemies burning
Bossaline be bringing the drama
As the world keeps turning
[Verse 1]
22 years old, bold with much guts
O.G. from the hood kickin' up dust
Once I got ya, no one can save ya
Fresh out the swamp, a neighborhood gator
One-times want some action, I'm paper lapped and taxin'
Bo dropped them like the Jacksons
Dont sing, down with Rodney King
Solo on the scene, let my dick swing
Fuck the white man and his plan
America's nightmare is who the fuck I am
six-feet and dark skin, with skills of a marksman
kill at will when I feel like barkin'
So step to my left side, as I aim with my right eye
'Cause at the end all the whites die
Pay is what you owe
I'll have a hundred and fifty billion blacks at the
white house front do'
And I wont eat pork on a God-damn mission
and no I'm not a member of the Muslim religion
Platinum, one million stackin'
Flood the hood with tapes, now everybody's rappin'
And jackin' so how it happen, captain
It's the general, sucka no, indo with the fo' fo'
Auto mag saggin' without a rag
One in the chamber, ready for the fuckin' danger
Call up your boys, its worser then the watts riot
Whitey got his buck stopped in the violence
Lyrics that flow, letting your punk-ass know
Standing right here's America's Nightmare
[Verse 2]
Walk like I'm on my way to execution
A.K. in my hand is what I'm usin
Confusin fools run up and catch the bruisin
Tatoo's under rest in peace cause of the music
I'm hard-core, six deep in a ford explorer, ready for
the fuckin war
So when it's on take cover
A.K's dance from the gutter, thick gloves for the
smother
No finger tips so there's no evidence
Plus I dumped the A.K's in the ditch
Hit the switches, fuck the bitches
I'm a killah, hardcore nappy head guerilla
Soudin like cube, so give the president the bad news
Another ex-con with flow, fool
No tatoo's so you cant mark me
Down with my sista's, FUCK charles barkley
Send me to the war, and I'll push the button
America's Nightmare saggin' and struttin'
Fuck the coppers, let 'em have it with the choppers
Trigger happy like "O-Dawg", trick, America's Nightmare
[Verse 3]
It's that locced out madness that got these steel toes
thumpin'
And its that henn though that got me drunk as a
motherfucker
Bangin' like pots and pans 'fore day he yells
Thousand watts 15's on thangs with no L's
America's nightmare, strapped to a tee
Cocked and ready to bust it's that H.K. forty
im known to get further on the block then white P.D.
get out of sight quickly, dump when im tipsy
crip-made hookers im the one that you fear
america's night, motherfuckin' mare
uhh, so bring it on when its on
fools strapped up back to back then i make that call to
the dome
i got bounce like a baller but im real like air dog
and when it gets funky i attack like a bear hog
dawg, so pick a bone with the next man
Cause I, am, a crazy lunatic man
i crease my own khaki', you fools can't jack me
or eat a strap of fully loaded mac daddy
and dont give a fuck, plus cant wait to buck
full pump slugs will catch you 'fore that ass ducks
fool i gets even, steven aint even breathin
fucked and bucked him, eternal bleedin'
on the concrete, passed away like some bomb weed
[C-Bo]
It's all about that, scrilla scratch, flossin a bad
batch and pushin
somethin luxury when it ship the sector snack my semen
Drank the diamonds, geechie dub shinin
Ninety-seven sport drop Benz, gettin mine
You can hate and catch the tip of the blade of my sawed
It's West coast mafia for the Midwest to the Bay
But I'm from the Valley of Cali we specialize in cap
peelers
Straight thug niggaz, quick to draw like Matt Dillon
Outlaws, strap in drawers, ready for war -- push up
on the side of your Ford Explorer and start dumpin
through the doors
We realers; with so much scrilla can you hang with G's?
Start uhh, who busy Jesus said
[E-40]
Fuck cowboy keys now I ain't never been nobody's sucker
Nor have I ever been any coastal fake
"He got too much too lose; he ain't gonna bust in the
ring!"
Out of state deputy license plates fix a ticket window
tinted
I could shoot to kill -- dressed up like a old man in a
Bonneville
Disguised, ready to chastise and dissapoint my prey
Surprise, the element, apply pressure
Get back at the motherfucker, snatch back at the
motherfucker
Bust caps at the motherfucker... motherFUCKER!
One-Time up in the Valle-Jo
Follow me and Bo to Sacramento
Spend it on some ol high performance, Catastrophic
Get some stunts, turn some tight ones, blew a head
gasket
Chorus: repeat 2X
It's fo'-oh and C-Bo, quick to blast
Break niggaz like the Task, without the mask
Water, bring the noise like we on stage
Boom, break em down like a twelve-gauge
[C-Bo]
Back at cha I rose, Chuck Taylors and double-oh's
Young thugs, ready to protect with fo'-fo's
On a mission mashin, nonstop til we cashed in
All out assassins known for down and dirty and blastin
on sight smashin, anything no question asked
Runnin up with no mask and dumpin caps in that ass
This one life we live, is to be lived without sin
But I'll be damned if I die without a damn thing to
give
[E-40]
Don't make us have to be the one to grab the gun
And get to dumpin on your crew! That's what we do,
check it
Drop it like it's hot assume the position on the flo'
butt naked
Give me erything you got
or you gonna end up comin up missin and I won't regret
Still Water run deep (how deep?)
Uhh, all I find all I keep, uhh
Pay the price to have a sucker put on ice
Got just as many Hot Ones as my nigga Spice
Chorus
[E-40]
But if they, locked you up and throw way the key, what
would you do E?
I'd be up in that motherfucker watchin my latest video
brought to you by
Trass G and Trey Dogg from the California Music Channel
Broadcastin
Rap Show the Bay Area's own Number One network, cable
station, C.M.C.
(BEYOTCH!) Love letters to my wife, ba-bee I miss you
This mornin I learned how to make a pair of dice out of
some toilet tissue
Fan mail from my fans, get up out of jail
Waitin for my court ap-pail
[C-Bo]
Nigga pass the strap and let me blast
I'm quick to get off in that ass
It's Forty Water and the Loco Bitch so kiss dick and
kick cask'
from Sacramento down to Vallejo, on a mission about
that mail
We specialize in collectin pays
if you come short, we dumpin facials I holds down the
fort
with two Magnums culture go toe to toe
with any one of you bitch ass niggaz
that think you can fuck with me and fo'-oh
It's old school trick, new school fools they catch
clips
Forever money over bitch, we'll never caught snick
considered licked
[E-40]
Hell yeah, ay
See that's what I'm sayin that shit is realer than a
I'm on a mission for money, dreams n' Bentleys n'
Ferrarris
Influenced by the biggest ballas now bitches wanna call
Picture me with all the cheese mansion lookin overseas
Pushin limosuines n' stackin hunits n' g'z
Dubbz on my sports car six car garage
Its like a mirage when you step off my back yard
Rollies whinnin diamonds shinnin I'm gettin mine
Them models you see on TV fuckin em' all the time
Zippin on $200 bottles of champainge
Till I'm dead in the game wont a damn thang change
I'm a boss bitch thats why I floss bitch
And we leave from the club you gettin tossed bitch
Besta believe I'm a thug keep it crackin n' stackin my
mill
Taller than (??) (??) n' roll like a back down
Fuck goin' back to jail
Bitch I'm back to the hotel in my V12 wit mo' kill
[Chorus]
Yall dont wanna see me in my 4.6
Twenty inch rims with the all chrome kit
Ballin like king tut two rollies
Mac like goldies somebody better hold me
Yall dont wanna see me in my 4.6
twenty inch rims with the all chrome kit
Ballin like king tut nigga what
Two rollies somebody better hold me
You see me sliddin up not givin a fuck we done been up
Throwin up the mob down the block so bring it up
I be flossin in my Mercedes wit yo lady
Got her tossin zippin on Baileys we do it daily
It aint NOOOO bitch livin up on this earth that can
play me
It aint NOOOO snitch livin up on this earth that can
hate me
I be sideways shakin dick up on the highway
Havin it my way I think it was a Friday better yet a
Thursday
Thinkin about the first day my CLK went to hit the bay
It was a true figga young mob figga make mans skrilla
Gettin close up on the trigga
Yall dont wanna see me in my 4.6 seee
TVs in the back seat
Now police wanna catch me
Cuz I'm livin large $80,000 cars
A young ghetto star no matter who you are
Chorus
I put dubbz on my Benz got my 64 lifted
Swimmin in money because I'm gifted
Livin the life of a rap star Bentleys n' double R's
Ride luxury cars flossin wit allstars
Catch me overseas counting g'z and they hate it
Mad cuz a thug nigga done made it
Wanna see me down and out bank account on rip
You players haters you can suck a fat dick
I put the gat to yo lip breath smellin like shit no
breathin
To the wizard of oz hard courage is what you needin
Beat up n' get up out it before I draw down
Wit a 44 caliber desert eagle got shit locked down
Like a dog pound and we all down
For that dubb C L mafia loc
Aint no stoppin us loc
Not unless you poppin us loc
I'm a floss across town like the president
Flip a yay and dont touch no evidence
Baller Style!
Chorus
[Killa Tay]
I'm a cap pilla you fuckin wit some real killas
Ride through my 9 milla on cock like a dike bitch
I'm bellin it tight bitch
My profile aint rightous I'm a thug lord
I got whatever you need like a drug store
Hard core killin off all enimies
Them dollies crackin speed knum you on my g'z
I be ballin like Rasheed Wallace but fuck college
All a nigga need is my heat and some of this street
knowledge
Get some dollas straight thuged out
Put up in yo chest n' still holla all in my mouth tryin
to get popped out
But I burn rubber on hood rats we ridin high speed
Cuz I like to drop E off Remy and weed
I'm through the town like the HIV
Regulatin strikin dirty wit a fake ID
Instead of hatin I be chassin this paper hard status
Its in my nature still copin kids never potin licks wit
no fakies
* [Chorus] "All I ever wanted was to be a thug and hustlin was all I knew"
Forvever thuggin I keep my mind focus and risin above skys
Thug til i die slang drugs til I ride
Will I ever fly or will I die from a drive by
Witness my victims ride til they die
Dear LORD will you ever forgive a nigga's sin
Cause I stay surrounded with trigger men
I'm in pushing the finest loads
I'ma thug by nature they got these
They got me trapped in Seattle sleepness
I'll make you muthafuckas reap this
And any niggas want to ride on me
Set fourth and you could die on me
Bullets fly like the fourth of July torches in the sky
Chorus: 2x
You niggas wanna see me falled off get caught up and haulled off
Become a victim of a sawed off
Life's been full of trifes in ways but soon I see better days
Pass my pistol in weigh with better ways
Stay away from all this madness
Given through traffic something new
Protected by bullet proof close my eyes hoppin that is true
Thankin the LORD for all the stress he put me through
Teaching me right from wrong don't want to spend life from home
Cause in the water it's so hard to breath
Plus the LORD for my baby girl got to get her ready for this crazy world
Ain't nuthin worse than a lazy girl got to get your mind right
First and learn to love school and believe in everything you do forever thuggin
Chorus:
It's g'z up hoes down though they slang kilos and pounds
Stay flossin the whole town navigators and tv's in em
Can't believe it when you see me in em with the six changing dvd's in em
Since day one always been a trife ass nigga
And ain't none changed but the change
4.6 range blew our brains, phat house on the hill
Now they call me C-boss because I be playing with about six mills
Since my deal with warlock fuck some pork chops
Taking Lobsters tossing wine glasses with the mobsters
Off shore bank accounts swiss have a nigga piss
Dam can you imagine this thug nigga wit my money than
That uhh nigga and that mexican bored brotha wit a plug nigga
I'm flooded nigga don't be crystall bud nigga beenie kap pistal
Straight gangsta baby don't get it twisted
And this fast stack I'm hold ain't foldin all
[C-Bo]
Yea let's get this money though my nigga
Ahh man fucking on us man fucking on us
Man I'm not going back to prison nigga
I already got two strikes nigga turn the music down nigga
Fo' real nigga I ain't going back fuck that
(Just take a ticket my nigga you ain't do nuthin)
The fuck is you doing Man fuck it I'm telling you nigga
don't tripIt's gonna be all good man
It's gonna be all good hey
[C-Bo]
Can't take my back is ill tack what I know sky is the limit
But this world is full of envy hold me back I've been done it
Shit what you thought C-Bo wasn't down
It's just hella hard to get up when the hoe get to the ground
Get cha realla can't take it so they gave me a case
I got skills but I can't make it being Enemy of the State
I close my eyes pray to GOD guess this will remember me
Just like 'Pac "Against the World" but it's the world against me
Scared to see me in much you wills flossin a whip
Tossing a your bitch you slip we hit now we tossing a clips
Bossing and shit next thing I'm bubling and cavi
cause if the cold world air maxs
All the dubs on my navi holla at me shit fans want to see me in action
Heard they mac what they make in a year I pay in taxes
I'ma ball like the Jackson's and I won't stop till my casket
Or I hurta them bastards
[skit]
Sacramento rap artist C-Bo faces crimial charges in the state of Ohio
Local police cease two firearms and one pound of marajuana
Apprehended by four US marshalls by the state of Washington
[C-Bo]
They thought it was over but it just started
And some of the hardest artists in the world
Freedom of speach got me preaching to every G on the street
We got to eat so fuck the P.D. three striking me
Not liking me want to strike me like Rodney King
But I am a home run hitter so I swing batter batter swing
Got to scheme to get away and I'm gonna scream yes yes y'all
As I put the beam to his fuckin face and a new case is a hurt ya
As I point the seven inch flame in about the HK
Hit the gas and get further
And hit the white boy in the head wit a birck and started dancin
Fuck parole and Pete Wilson I'm so fresh out the pen hoe holdin heat
Like Billy the Kid quick to split a nigga's wig I'm the type of nigga pop you
out till you lend me a cape
[skit]
Rap star C-Bo; since his debut on Tupac "All Eyez on Me"
Seemed to be drifting down the same road as Shakur was
With authorities C-Bo's albums sales heat up after rapper's parole arrest
Thomas was acquitted for 4 years in Soledad prison of the illegal use of firearm
He could be sent back to prison for a year if the board of prisons
Determine that the lyrics on the album promoted a gang related lifestyle
[C-Bo]
I'll bring it to them how they want it cause there is only one way to do it
Bring it to them how they knew it on they death bed put by fluid
Put a slug in his cranium catch'em close range
I'm flaming them I'm the West Coast don loc fresh out of prison and smoke
Better check my backround I crack crowns I never back down
You want some ruff shit tuff shit you get dust quick
See me in traffic grab your automatic and bust bitch you violated my freedom
Only playback is eat'em like Dahmer but I bomb'em with teflon when I'm on em
Fuck parloe fuck prison fuck those that don't want to listen
[skit]
Hi I'm Jon Norris with MTV news this hour on music biz
racism and online hate speech - but first, albums have been stickered and banned
and in the past Luther Campbell of 2 Live Crew was arrested
for a night because of an onstage performance;
but on Tuesday we believe for the first time a recording artist has been
jailed for the lyrics on his record
he is Sacramento based rapper C-Bo given the name Shawn Thomas
according to the California State Department of Corrections
The new C-bo album "Till My Casket Drops" has lyrics that do just that plus
* With my eyes open I tried to focus
I see my mother
Squeezing my hand teary eyed behind her
I see my brothers
and I wonder, how quick the game would take me under
I felt the bullets hit me in the back and it felt like thunder
Man, I'm thinkin is it too late for me to change?
I knew this world is full of snakes dog but thats a part of the game
a young thug that always scream I aint afraid of rain
I would just fight it out with Lord when I had no one to blame
from all the dirt I did
snatchin purses to pay the rent
I knew it would all catch up to me
man I hope i'm heaven sent
I used to be the main one screamin nigga i'm prepared to die
and when it came down to me layin on the death bin I was scared to die
no evidence of a killa when I found a bird in my dresser
and if I don't die here
i'll die tracin your hot desert
I can't win for losin to meet a whole gang of snakes
never thought about killin myself
but I refuse to die at the stake
Nigga, have you ever been sittin in your car nigga, rollin up a blunt?
when a nigga comes up to your window and gives you a whole clip?
Nah you aint ever had that, you aint ever experienced that
Have you ever been walkin through the park,
with your kids and your family, and a nigga comes out the bushes and
gives you and your family a whole clip?
No you aint ever had that
I remember when I had it made
13 with a whole verb
used to catch me comin down the street clownin in my convertible Ford ??
I used to be all on the curb
tryin to holla at me a shorty
with my right hand do dub
and me sippin up on a 40
me and my nigga used to have it made
we used to even fuck the same bitches
we used to spend weeks and even months on the corner tryin to maintain
our riches
remember we used to cut and go to other schools
and I slayed them niggas with lyrics
had the whole school late for class
cuz they all wanted to stay to hear it
I want to thank you my nig
cuz everytime i'm at war
you was always on my side
remember that time you almost died nigga
and I saved your life
yeah my dog that aint shit
nigga i'd do that a 1000 times
remember back when we was kids
and I had like 1000 rhymes
I aint forgot we unloaded the desert eagles
nigga to save my brothers
the other niggas started the war
then they snitched
when they asked who I smothered
to my niggas sittin in a cell
doin 34 with an L
they can't seperate us by jail
we all stuck in the same hell
I love you dawg
I'm in my room
tryin to make ends meet
got on the phone
have my whole crew
meet me at the end of my street
I ain't wit havin no weed to smoke
no drink, and bein broke
nigga we got to hit the bank loc
and thats real aint no joke
take me over to the projects
so I can steal me a regal
then we gonna run over to big Pooks house
so I can pick up those Desert Eagles
y'all fools ready for this
it's on and crackin at noon
we gonna get in and get out quick
with all the money we can consume
we hit em right
we hit em hard
and I got addicted
this shit is like a monkey on my back
and I can't kick it
so i'm robbin banks left and right
everything is goin good
till I hooked up with this one nigga
from the other side of the hood
he was a hothead
he'd come in the banks shootin guards and shit
when we got out the bank and split the money
them other niggas he would rob and shit
when the feds came sniffin around
thats when I knew he was a bitch
when the feds hit my house and put me on the ground
Now that a nigga's seen money, shit
I can smile and laugh
I got 20's on my bentley
An iron cage in front of my pad
And I still mean muggin
Throw up west-side in my photo shoot
And got TV's, 20's and DVDs in my photo coupe
Got a stash spot in the airbag
For when the po-po's snoop
Steady mobbin on the killa route
With the bads like pride gin n juice
I'm split proof
With the bulletproof and the gin n juice
Still mash with the men in blue
And stay strapped down with a mac-10 or two
Now how you wanna do it?
We can get muddy and bloody
I'ma still count cash, count crass
In the middle of the street whoopin niggas ass
I'm west bound crowned by 50 pounds thats how I do it
On the phone with your wife
While ya gettin beat down that how I do it
I'm a mastermind in crime
I cause disaster with one 9
Be behind 17 bodies all shot in the head one time
So think twice before you gaffle
One pellet to the big apple
All your names in one bag
Were pullin death tickets like a raffle
[Chorus] X 4
Bitch, I'm a rider for death
Slide with a tek-9 for respect
And a nigga that step gets stepped with a tek
So it's best you ride with a vest
Homicide be the best bet
For the real life with the best threats
Surprise, with a tek full of teflons
It's westside for death
Yeah yeah war, 9, give it to em
Hit the men in blue and I send it to em
Let off the deaf one full of teflons
Hollowtips spittin straight through em
Niggas scream one never seen one
Send a mini 14 in the street low
With no remorse of course I aim
The tip of torch and I scream go
Haven't you ever heard of a straight killa?
One that makes really quick to break a nigga
Fuck fake niggas and ? nigga
Leave em abandoned and stranded
Hit, by chrome cannon
And he bucked and bucked and kicked
Like a bull from the next planet
They wanna see me talkin bout thug law
You a cinderella quick to scrub floors
Behind your car door in the war
And you've got a 44
Catch me in a four-door range
Wicked language with blowed brains
With Compton's revered
And a east-side ridah no brains
This west coast mafia til death do us part
I don't step on no mark
I let the Smith & Wesson bark
Who you are? Nigga you just a bitch in my book
You snitch, and couldn't shook
Cus you done bit the hook
[Chorus] X 4
Ain't no nigga gon' step on my toes
Without gettin bullet holes through his car door
Or a broken nose, they say I'm hostile
But I'm just raised bloccstyle
Don't ever want it nigga, never put my glock down
I'm from the town where house parties be known for crackin
For 10 minutes, then it happen, niggas cappin and scrappin
Then sideways off the block, gang signs out the window
And it's fuck all cops, cus I hit the sherm with the indo
Now, I'm superman and I'm quick to shoot a man
If it's teflon, I send a teflon through his chest bones
I'm out for manslaughter, must I test the water?
I got heat that explodes and implodes like Pearl Harbor
The hood is like a mini-war, them little ???
Now I bang a gang, that I remain to kill lethal
Gets critical and it's pitiful
Cus money is all I'm in it for
In the hood on one knee
Strap in my hand yellin what that info
* Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
OhhhhhhhhhhhhOhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[Verse 1: C-Bo]
Now see I be the man with all the plans
Trips and personal leer jets across the land
See me in bently in front of billboard live
Sipping on cristal crushed ice and lime
While I flex baggets and rubys on my wrist
My niggas be the shit like rotweilers and pits
Top dollers and fits markeys to kiss
Your four keds on my pinkie might crease your lips
Got offshore accounts swizes in japan
Need money machines to count the cash at hand
Push a candy green navy on unleves with four tvs
Gold real smiling like flaming young key I'm all about the money
And I mix it with the hunnys but not a trick
Hoes can't get none from me
Catch me in rag benz count my ends I don't hate we move tapes
State to state
Surprise to see me riding your town
So much ice it'll melt the whole city might drown
Forever stay a playa and ball with tycoons
Bentlys and mansions with like 15 rooms
Fall to my doom all I wanted was the cash
Lambouginis ferraris benz convertable jags
Rolex on my right bravado on my left rollin in sweat
On my personal leer jet tycoon
[Chorus]
All I wanna do is to have the better things in life
I'm a tycoon diamond rings and live this life that's all I knew
Was to hustle day and night stack my chips and rub this ice
that's a playa's life ohhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhhhhhh
[Verse 2]
Double r's and movie stars wanna know who we are
Quarter million dollar cars in six car garage
It's like a mirage when you step out on the deck
All I wanted was the best so I built the rest
And iced the neck then I spiced the deck with swimming pools and hot tubs
Private flights to met cico puerto rico peruvian flakes
Metro rap cakes that I'm getting for eight
I'm straight don't use it never do I touch
I put this 40 carrots and diamonds and get them crushed
Lost the fourtune and fame I'm pushing the caine
When the fourtune put us stressed to get the fourtune I gained
And still remain the same nigga swerving the lanes
With a cup full of crushed ice pouring the champagne
Smoking the dank while I'm holding a drank
West coast my motto toting all the dank tycoon
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
I be a star to those who supposed to be hoes
But only hoes like those in skirts in tight cloths
And those a dealers played out with kangols
Had troppaz so I swooped up the range rolls
Got better hoes gucci sweater cloths
And went from V.S.O.P. to X.O.
From quarter karats to cares girlfriend
Then marriage with a baby to cherish
And a mansion for my parents
Timex to Rolex all gold to diamonds
Now I "Bling Bling" like Cash Money cause I'll be shining
My broad stays smothered down
And Victoria's Secret from a disc to her ass crack
Right price to peeping in all
I'm not a pimp I just live when I walk
Karl Kani boxers is fence because of my deal with warlock
Staking lobsters from pork chops
From pissing on lingers and knolies
To pissing criss down at the yacht tycoon
Mo' murder, mo' murder
A body fulla tack 2's, battlescars from bullet wounds
New clothes, diamond medallions from paid dues
Niggas that ride til they rue with the attitude of
'fuck the world' from tryin to kill us everytime we move
You're perpetratin to be a killer but I know you're fakers
Them jealous cowards killed my nigga 2PAC in Vegas
Vague kind of bullets fired, we're ready to die with open eyes
I be the last man standin when the smoke dies
This world's infested with haters, wannabe players
Player hatin a real player cos he's livin major
No disrespect to you redneck blood-suckin pigs
If a nigga die, just give my cash to my wife and kids
But what you thought makes the world go round
I got an ese in the East Bay ballin a hundred pounds
Push a 600 rag drop E-12
Dump a 100-round clip in ya, ask about my mail
Chorus:
I try to keep my focus, on survivin and money
Can't let them niggas smoke us, before we unload them talons
Traumatise and hope this is how we leave em when they hit us
With the guts to die, pullin the trigger til my casket drops
*repeat*
Them player haters wanna blast me up like they did 'Pac
But I don't give a fuck I'm a ride til my casket drop
It don't stop until you sucker niggas drippin jelly
Pumpin slugs into you motherfuckin pig's belly
I'm full of indica weed laced with heroin
Call it Kryptonite-on the dead, I'ma risk tonight
Blast the first motherfucker that steps
up to my ride, not knowin where my weapon is kept
I shoot in-side their chests, I'ma thug life, I'm crazy
Got my strength rays to make him kiss his babies
Fuckin sucker ass niggas that didn't ??? ???
Hard lies on him and didn't retaliate
Hard then later on "Shit, hey what's happenin?"
We woulda chased them suckers down and capped em
Give a shout to Outlaw Immortalz right
Look me up cos I'm a ride until my casket drops
Chorus
Murder, money, power, pistols and warfare
Kill all my black folks and the peckerwoods wouldn't care
Keep my head up, duckin and dodgin from the state pen
Cos fo' sho', ain't no future in goin back again
They got to kill me, fill me up with lead
let me, die slowly from my boots to my head
As a, big chief I refuse to retreat, I
rip teeth outta eye then dump heat, why
the PD reach but catch concrete
Never sol-ved, gone off indica and Hennessey
Infrared at my dog, paws locked like pig jaws
With my gun up, punk, I run up on alla y'all
then I dump, dump dump dump to get the money
Now I stole Rolex diamond, shinin outta sunny
West Coast the spot, servin caine to get the millions
Distributin the game, makes you want to get the billions
(C-BO)
I keep a four with a trunk full a pumps that'll jump
Fat heat under the seat and I dunk
With the craziest nigga the shadiest nigga the ????
Fuck some crystal we on the yak in the bug
With a strap full of slugs nigga
Any one of you niggas try to jack
Get capped in your mug nigga
Its the loca for show
I go for broke with the loaded 44 revolver
Aimed at your throat
(W.C.)
I gotta pain vain just as shady as a game
Three lick again 40 bitches on my cain
Slanging that lolo smoking that dojo
Back for more dough
Packing that desert eagle it's me and my nigga C-BO
Keep the lethal illegal channel we trying to see more
Trunk full of kilos in back of the regal
Twin evil ditching the brews so kicking the jews
With 2 raw commercial niggas with nothing to lose
(Chorus)
(C-BO)
We gonna ride till we die
Stay high to the sky
(W.C.)
Gulf ass chucks, t-shirts and levis
(C-BO)
Cheese getter, heat winner,burn cheddar
(W.C.)
To all the g's serving the second or third letter
REPEAT 2X
(W.C.)
Look in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
No it's me Dub-C letting my bandana swang
Watching them all walkin my dance
With rocks in my pants
Glokking my cant's
Chuck Taylor's and contra pants
All my booth flanel my lolo my ammo scheam ass for the
scandal
Cuz niggas be in your court sayin hes a soprano
But dead niggas can't talk, fuck the DA
It's C-BO and dub on this criminal replay
(C-BO)
Fuck toning shit down I'm fit to bone a bitch down
Me and dub in the rag ??? hoppin through the town
Crip walkin to the party like WESTSIDE!!
Grab the mike and show them how the west ride
Fo banging ,hoes hanging, zone stanging
Gets no love from the dub we got the infared aiming
Hes flaming,we banging, seat claiming
Give a fuck till we die these niggas aint changing
(CHORUS)
(C-BO)
Dub C plug me,slug me, with some game
(W.C.)
Let it rain,let it drip,hit the switch make it bang
(C-BO)
What you claim?
(W.C.)
Got affiliated mad circle game, thangs celebrate,
better feel the flame
(C-BO)
Two hoes will never change creased kahkis and chucks
and t-shirt
Bandana on swang,rather it rain, all in the same game
Shit I got the gravy and the sack, yo cuz, call that
shady nigga back
(W.C.)
What you mean?What you mean nigga
I got the bomb ass tweed nigga
And dirty choppers that I'll make them retrieve nigga
All scandalous,I got it on lock
And C-BO show them how you be banging the guard and
block
(C-BO)
I blow chronic by the pee's nigga
And stay behind it like steam nigga
And keep something up your sleeve nigga
Many 14 2-2-3's
In my hood we stay jumping out of trees nigga
Verse One: C-Bo
I was born in hell without a pistol
Now how can I survive with one live without a vest and
4-5?
Runnin from the Task Fo' but smashin for my cash
Bankin corners, hop it then I blast on their ass
See them piggies want me dead for sure or in the pen
doin 10, instead of me in my Benz on some twins
Sippin Hen, smokin indica bomb
and keep my pedal to the metal til I'm high and gone
I know you rich niggas hate me, can I keep it real and
feel this rap shit?
Didn't make me, got out the pen and flip the '97
drop Mercedes, I'm the *?placenta?* of no love
Til the lord save me, straight thugs that'll dump slugs
til they fuckin grave, mass murder motherfuckers to the
front page
When we hit, we empty clips til we get paid
I've been a slave from my cradle to the grave
Nigga, fuck the world, I was raised in hell
Chorus: C-Bo
That's why we buck shit down and yell "Fuck the world!"
I'd rather die here in hell then die doin life in jail
But take the shot with a Mac 12, order hits on the *?
pack tailed?*
>From the block to Wotts, we are thug niggas raised in
hell
*repeat*
Verse Two: Big Syke
I'm bailin thru the set wit a 40, smokin a cigarette
Blastin my radio, oldie tunes by The Marvalettes
Gangbangin vets on parole as I stroll thru
They rassle Gz like two craps and they strapped too
Oh how I love these niggas but I hate em with a passion
But I ride for these motherfuckers, when I don't even
Thug fashion from head to toe, I let the world know
that this is Thug Life, motherfucker, til I leave this
So as my knuckles drag the concrete, big homies hit the
streets
Transgressions under pressure, preyin on the weak
I sink like a fish, I wish upon a ghetto star
If the enemies come thru and ride on me they won't get
Big homey got out, hold 22's on a hang
Runnin around, sweatin motherfuckers, talkin bout
"Let's throw them thangs"
Bang, I hit him with a bat and heard his skull crack
Then I got *?him the wind in the trach?* til he
shattered, to get the Mac
Chorus
Verse Three: C-Bo
It ain't no love for bitch niggas
as I dump slugs and pull the plug on you bitch niggas
Pick up my phone and have some thugs hit you trick
niggas
wit on gloves or low tommy guns on them stitch niggas
Hit niggas with H-K's, split niggas with AK's when we
mash for the cash
Doin a hundred, blastin buck shots off in that ass
True outlaws ready for war, souls will never die
The same day we meet death, the same day we ride
Dumpin slugs with Tek 9's, more bulletproofs my 4-5
I just let em fly, screamin out "Bitch nigga die"
We's about be a killer nigga, look outside
Tell me one reason why I should pray for eternal life
Born and taught in hell, with a gun store on every
corner
Bodyguard, bulletproof doors, it's hard to be a goner
Strapped with heat, these West Coast streets of
Killafornia
From day one, they have straps on em, cos we was raised
in hell
[C-Bo]
My whole crew is platinum
Quick to throw it down with Magnums
We ain't duckin' when the guns start blastin'
What's happenin'
West Coast rollin', Benjamins foldin'
Nigga bank accounts holdin', more loot than the jews
And I just stepped fresh up out some county blues
Had me all on the news, cuz I'm gettin' my paper
And my goal life now is livin' it major
Coppin' Crystal, Champagne
I'm in the 'Natti with the blow brains
Leavin' my mansion up in Spokane
The dope Game, was lovely
Out with the flip rollos and drop Benzes when they clucked me
Now the haters wanna mug me, cuz I'm AMG kid candy on some dub leech
But fuck them tricks cuz they haters
They stick out like short thumbs around Playaz
[Chorus 2x]
All I wanna do is get my paper straight
Roll up highways sideways out the gates
Luxury livin' baddest women and I'm straight
Back up with the flames BITCH
I'm Paper Made
[C-Bo]
I still scream "Fuck the World" _Til My Casket Drop_
I give a fuck about parole and these bastard cops
He could see me on TV coat with two glocks and a P
Cuz some bitch nigga snitched on me down in Cincinnati
I bet the bitch thought he had me
Ain't that a bitch how niggaz trip
That nigga must have been smokin' the cavi
I won't rest until my 'Natti niggaz get him
Run up in him hit him with a blade up of in his kidney
And leave him face down, real niggaz don't play around
Paralyze that motherfucker from the waste down
Cuz he's a bitch turned snitch on the next nigga
On sight I'm takin' his life with the Tec trigga
And give a fuck about his kid, cuz he didn't give a fuck about mine
When I was servin' my bid
I knew he was a flunky, punk nigga dressed like a junkie
Runnin' around with a pound of bunk weed
[Chorus 2x]
[C-Bo]
See I'm all about the cash fool
Blast to get a mill and I keep it real fool
I owe court and the streets, fuck a deal
Wanna see me cuffed and stuck in the back seat of a cop car
When I got jewels and pull more strings on a good tar/guitar than a rock star
Cop car by the UB wanna do me down like Doobie
Straight haters is what you fools be
Hangin' on my balls like newbies
You do three's dumped outta trees is how we do these
Enemies when we WC 'em down like my crew be
Pack heaters nonetheless and now better leave his
Bulletproof vest down in the Beemer
Hit 'em up we lead 'em then streetsweap 'em
We don't need 'em
That nigga's a bitch like Ru Paul
Whipped his with his ass you'll be sold like blue balls
We some murderers, haven't ya heard of the straight killa
All black, the realest on the map, mission to get the millas
Y'all best off feel me, a motherfuckin' real G
In this shit Paper Made til they kill me kill me
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
Life can be only what you make it
When you're feelin down
You should never fake it
Say what's on your mind
And you'll find in time
That all the negative energy
It would all cease
And you'll be at peace with yourself
You won't really need no one else
Except for the man up above
Because He'll give you love
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
Take your time
Baby don't you rush a thing
Don't you know, I know
We all are struggling
I know it is hard
But we will get by
And if you don't believe in me
Just believe in "He"
Cause He'll give you peace of mind
Yes He will
And you'll see the sunshine
For real, yes you would
And you'll get to free your mind
And things will turn out fine
Oh, I know that things will turn out fine
Yes they would, yes they would
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
If you looked in my life
And see what I've seen...
All you gotta do is take your time,
One day at a time
It's all on you
what you gonna do?
Oh you will see I'm so down and out
Cryin' every day
* [C-Bo]
My whole crew balling
Pushing roses down to the impalas
On a mission for dollars bumping hoes
You know my motto
All about the cash 6 million dollar pad
That’s money over hoes with big tits and ass
I like to lounge on my yacht
And count money by the blocks
Million dollars in crates
Invested birdes don’t flock
So fuck some m*et dp and cristal
Pass some xo and hennessey and long ale
We push some rolls royces
Drop polices and porches you think I booshit
Big body benz’s and expiditions
Pit boo sitting
Out front of the mini mansion
It’s some westcoast hills looking over the whole planet
Coube doors marble floors
Inside our door pools on a move
Get more money than all you fools
Than independent then split it
Got in the cast and I jet
Straight out west nigga it’s stacking in my nest
[Chorus]
How many muthafuckas really down to ride with me
How many muthafuckas down to take a life for me
How many of you muthafuckas niggas down to die with me
Slide with me and pull a homicide with me
[C-Bo]
Growing up really never had much
Except my folks try to fucking get touch
We pulled licks and such to live plush
Rush out with it yea we get it rob niggas mob niggas
Slide triggers to the right and left
Ride biggas in the west to def
Represent the westcoast nigga best to bring along a vest coat
The most dangerous like venim
We run up in them and see them them’em and send them off
To pay the cuz they what
While we stashing the turkys like sasquash
Call the neighborhood watch
The feds couldn’t knock us down or not
Pouring shots like scotch on the rocks
Busting armies like ahead looking cotch
40 cals gone blaow with smile
How the fuck you like us now
Wonder how we major
Been this way since teenagers
Sky pagers and punchy you know the rollers
Sack of crackola in boulders sitting in the trunk of the nova
[Chorus]
How many muthafuckas really down to ride with me
How many muthafuckas down to take a life for me
How many of you muthafuckas niggas down to die with me
Slide with me and pull a homicide with me
[C-Bo]
I counted the counter like one two three
Fo shots to hit me could believe lil reeky got touched
Now what’s the fuss
The whole city went bust ready to rip shit up
I’m in the cut zipping shackles while hillas getting nasty
I’m the suspect what the fuck is that
Loading the techs that I stepped on
See the muthafuckas the crept on
The dogs fly higher than the birds man smoking marycaine
Cuz it’s cool to calm my nerves man
We got the word on the ride now bitches be
No one’s liable for the actions that about to take place
All I know is when they comes for me I’m aiming for the face
Chase me down
Trying to speak you fucked with the wrong G
Crept to the b side on you quick to ride on ya
Hit them on the bad side with sliffs side on ya
Gurrileas gurrileas but pleas words to the miss
We got some shit going on one man down
* [Verse 1]
We getting money got the getting money
My nigga from Rap a Lot get the money
Nigga from tha row get the money
Stick wid it niggas is get the money
Westcoast mafia
I gave the gangbanging like fuck the money now I see
My riches to get my milk and honey as I touch the stage
Prescious my life of caine women scream my name while
Sipping on champane we came perpacked in this rap game
And I'm a rider to deth living the life of fame to my last breath
I see that when the money came that's when the women changed
Fascinated by lexus and gold chains luxury cars conversating with
Movie stars now they feening justing to know who we are
We rap stars getting the paper like tony draper
Living major like 40 water far from pulling capers killa
Califonia sunshine ya ass all mine as I drop the top on cloud nine
From a 500 to a 600 mercedes ladys praying that they catch me
On I 80 yea we get the money
[Chorus]
Rest in peace to the homeboy pac representing westcoast till my casket
Drops I know you hate me cuz I'm getting my rice and gravey
In my mercedes on I 80 with your lady we get the money
Rest in peace to the homeboy pac representing westcoast till my casket
Drops california be the state full of diamonds and well boss playas
Pushing big body as L V-12 we get the money
[Verse 2]
Killa cali where the gangbangers kill thugs stacking money
Make a mill come short on my scrill till I magnum off in your grill
In luxury cars sitting on 20 inch wheels influnced by
Big ballers up on a hill addicted to having money stacked up
In large bills I gotta shake the hills and blend in with the real
Cuz I'm seeing too much of this penitentury steel
Holler if you hear me my dogs touch me if you feel me
Got these pinky slugs my neighborhood tryina kill me
As I seem to escape death caught up in this rap game
Give a shot out to my locs caught up in the crack game
Stacking for caine but ghetto started the fame only mission to game
From life of poverty pain I will remain the same
And money can never change these true thugs dedicated
To the game to get the money
[Chorus]
Rest in peace to the homeboy pac representing westcoast till my casket
Drops I know you hate me cuz I'm getting my rice and gravey
In my mercedes on I 80 with your lady we get the money
Rest in peace to the homeboy pac representing westcoast till my casket
Drops california be the state full of diamonds and well boss playas
Pushing big body as L V-12 we get the money
[Verse 3]
I'm on blunted fast cars in the pit like movie stars
Hear the women scream their heads off when they find out who we are
Platinum lexus full of baggets and crushed carrots keep'em jocking
When I'm on stage with 30,000 rocking my lyics spiced out
Ear and neck wrist iced out versachi cloths keep me glowing at night
When the lights out yeah I come dressed to impress
But only the best shit drank cristal and moet
My crew pack smith and wess with bulletproof vest
And if it's broke when I finished pissing then they handle the rest
Like a don heavy head when the bed get rest body parts
Scattered to ocean shores to the wild wild west fool
This is westcoast mafia better think before you jump
I meet my nigga teado at the roof in the rain with the mausburg pump
Kill'em up my nigg fill'em up make sure they dead
I give a fuck no luck put slugs in both of they heads
We get the money
[Chorus]
Rest in peace to the homeboy pac representing westcoast till my casket
Drops I know you hate me cuz I'm getting my rice and gravey
In my mercedes on I 80 with your lady we get the money
Rest in peace to the homeboy pac representing westcoast till my casket
Drops california be the state full of diamonds and well boss playas
(Verse1)
It's time to drop the gas from the chamber
Niggas on AWOL rearrange your
Face with the quickness
And it's the Garden Block sickness that got a nigga in this shit
So you better watch your back
'Cause C-Bo got the strap
Pulling the ski mask down
About to jack
'Cause marks come up short
You better back back like an eight legged crawdad, from the 44
Your'e scared to walk your alleys now
'Cause now days, niggas from my hood
Will snatch your ass out the fucking crowd
And beat you down to the concrete
And then I piss on your ass with some of that Crazy
Horse, Of course
Niggas die
Meet my 44
Then it's over 'cause your'e hit by the hardcore
We can't be in the same gang
'Cause the gang I'm in, ain't down with that ying-yang
So raise up off the block
'Cause you get no props, nigga, against 32 shots
Come to my set, get chin checked
Mark, by an original gangster vet
And then I put the niggity nuts in your mouth
Your ass was in, but now your ass is out
Quick, hurry, in a dash
Get ready to feel the blast from the chamber punk
Come take a whiff of the gas
(Verse2)
Check, Ace, Deuce, Tre
So now it's on
Release Slugs from my strap, until they gone
And talking shit won't last
Get your ass blast
As I let the mac-10 tap that ass
Bo-Loc is what they call me
For the reason
We like to murder in combat, war on the streets
.4-5, Glock 40's on sight to see
Me and the homies run deep like a wild pack of wolves
Attack like the Congo's when niggas talk bull
Better step and get further before them hollow tips spit
The Vulcan automatic with the Vulcan death grip
Walk the strip and still tote, see four in the tip
and explode on Kryptonite chronic blunts when we dip
Chorus:
And I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now?
I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
Take your whole motherfuckin crew out
I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now?
I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
Take your whole motherfuckin crew out
Now step into my zone, we can get it on
Roll a coupe, not a chrome, fuck a sack, I wanna zone
Stay blown on the strip, all switches away from dips
Next to the mack and the lil' homey talkin shit
He quick to blast on that ass, blood puddles in the grass
I thought "Make sure he dead, come back and then we smash
witta .4-5 automatic slug in his windpipe
Ain't no love, for a thug livin one life
We split wigs back like afro picks
Flagged up, ain't your momma's style when we dip
Young hogs creepin thru the fog
Ready for combat, just me and my dogg
Fuck y'all, other niggas all on my dick
For the money and bitches ain't really down to do shit
Another lyrical cap into your cranium
We known to blow shit up like nuclear uranium
Chorus
I explode like a nuclear warhead, wit this lyrical gang
that I slang like cocaine, makin the crowd bang
As we kick up more dust than a pick-up
Assaults, murders, and armoured truck stick-up
Cos ain't too many niggas that can fuck with these
Gz, pumpin and dumpin them ridahs on fo' D's
Wit a fo'-fo', quote I give, "busters are jokes"
and watch the concrete smack him in his face when he smokes
Fo' sure, I'm known like the Boyz N' The Hood
A Menace II Society knows it's tryin me, best to knock on some wood
I bring it back to the good hooks, wish that they could fuck wit this
lyrical microphone assassination hood spittin
.45 hollow point chips at'cha chest
The grinders penetrate a vest in the wild, wild West
So break north, south or east, retreat and meet defeat
It's West Coast, ready for combat, strapped wit heat
"Get down, get down"
My AK is puttin in much work
Poppin the clip a little voice in my head said "Murder"
Stuck the tip out the window and fucked em all
Took they ass to the ho like basketball
Hit the club got drunk but they better start gettin off
OGs kept they fuckers from my sawed off
I know they meant but I gives a fuck
What goes around comes around, they should have ducked
We open fire on the whole motherfuckin crowd
Jumped out started beatin motherfuckers down
Then I'm sideways comin off the speed bump
I'm standin up in the drop with the ride pump
My name is Cowboy C-Bo fo' sho'
When niggas hear Cowboy they hit the flo'
Cause they know I'm a god damn psycho
And I always bust caps at the night yo
Young punks want funk but they don't
Shoot once, if they gas, and then they gone
Little ho tried to pick Bo like an afro
Didn't know I just gotta press triple O
I'm a mobster, killin make my dick hard
You wanna lay you better have a bullet proof card
Cause the shit that we packin ain't ? gun
So when we kick listen up hoes better run
I don't like shootin hoes, I like to fuck
You don't rub you car windows gettin fucked up
Roll them seven-deuce coplers can't touch this
Vogue smoke like dope when I say fuck this
Wound my windows down still smoke tinted
Shotgun mad glocks all up in it
And we all pack heat, cause we all family
So watch your back motherfucker understand me
So if you rollin through this state fair
Hope you got the gat in the trunk, cause we gon' start funk
We hit the out of town clubs, like nuts
We in the drive by, fo' schools in the cut
I watched niggas get jealous when they hoes jock
That's when I go and take the finest ho and take a walk
Cause I'm the motherfuckin bomb
And gold nosed hoes, like to get fucked on triple gold
That's why I keep a sheet in my back seat
And sheeps gettin on my dick so she go leap
And I hear the virgin hoes be scared to meet me
Cause I dig the pussy hoes out so deeply
Straight mob, straight the fuckin club up
And make the jackers put they gloves up
And one times can't fuck with me
Cause they 305s can't fuck with the 350
Every corner I hit I'm gettin side ways
Have em lost by the time I hit the high way
C-Bo the bald head nut
Fish tell them in the cut
House parties, I cut the motherfuckers out
And bust caps at the end, without a doubt
I grab the mic and start kickin the gates and shit
Hoes know C-Bo make niggas click
I start talkin bout glocks, and mack 10s
And how I pulled my jack from the kingpin
And the niggas know better to fuck with me
The head hunter of the M-O-Double B
I ain't the richest but they say I'm the loc'est
And the one who keeps the mouth in the showbiz
And at the concerts I'm keepin the crowd hype
Cause I kick the kind of shit that everybody like
I take a mobster beat, do a mobster rhyme
Have mobsters kickin up dust all the time
From the window baby showin me much love
Let me squeeze the sharmin everytime I get a hug
Only time they get to rub on the bald head
Is if her legs is on my shoulder and we in the bed
And ya know the hoes don't let me hit em sideways
For the fact that's how I came off the highway
C-Bo the bald head nut
(feat. Spice 1)
[Verse 1: C-BO]
We got the warehouse packed from Lamborginis to Lacs,
More ruby an flame pack, than metro rap,
Got keys on knees wit g's out of state,
Flippin more yay than IHOP flip pancakes,
I'm a boss balla now, shot calla now
Rose's Bentley's nigga fuck the Apollos now,
An these bitches be comin by the dozens,
True ballaz never love 'em, fuckin aunties an cousins,
Got a have a ? humble, sticky green gumbo
Layin by the pool, hella full off gumbo,
Rollin wit these g's, get R.I.P.
By dozen ? to mini gages, to AR-15's,
See I don't trust a soul on patrole when I roll
4-4 I hold cuz I gotta shake parole,
You can stroll wit me, rock an roll wit me
But when the one times dip, caulk, unload wit me,
Cuz I'm a killa, nappy head nigga, from out the valley, best strapped
Down, in Sac-Town, capitol of Killa Kali,
Fool I comes heated, when needed, niggaz retreat,
When I blast pair of ? an a mini 14 when I smash.
[Chorus]
None of y'all niggaz can't fade this,
West coast niggaz is the craziest,
We got that MOB mentality,
C-BO an S-P-I-C-E,
None of y'all niggaz can't fade this,
West coast niggaz is the craziest,
We got that MOB mentality,
Major Pain & Mr. Bossalini.
[Verse 2: Spice 1]
(Straight G's)
Pullin our straps on niggaz who thinkin they bodies is made outta
Teflan,
Wit a 5-0 caliber in my right hand, an a G-LOCK in my left palm,
Black Bossalini, can't see me, wit a Lexy up on my wrist,
Imagine this, a ballin ass nigga addicted to killin shit,
? cross soldier mutha fuckaz so nigga don't fuck wit me,
I seen niggaz that I done murdered up in my dreams, when I be asleep,
Strapped an I thank God, nigga chasin me callin me punk ass nigga,
Wakin up wit the finga on trigga
Spittin hollow tip slugs that goes to figga,
Wanna put down, my Cristal, drink Cristal an shit,
But niggaz Uzi think he tellin me I'm gonna die if I sit,
So I MOB wit the old skool, wit a shot of chromes out my window,
Could it be the S-P-I-C-E wit a fifth of hin, yay an indo,
Black Bossalini.
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: C-BO]
We puts it down like g's, swingin vipers an vests,
From Benz to Beamers an Lamborginis all on the set,
An keep it crackin from LA all the way back down to the Bay,
I'm from the, valley, northern of Killa Kali, where g's lay,
Gots to keep yo head up, you slip they drop, they leave you wet up,
Blasted magnum taggin the fool of the big block we hit him up,
Eyes do or die, let 'em drip til they dry
Two killaz eye to eye, never duck when bullets fly,
Keep it crackulatin, like Pearl Harbor when we spit,
G's bump this shit, from ? moves to the rip set,
Trippin get split,
Wit a magnum,
Steady blastin now I done seen murder eye to eye
But my kids hope that I'm steadily fastenin,
Ain't no love for you thats down at the end of my barrel,
When I multiply my cash, ridin in my 4 barrel Camaro,
I catch ya slippin, I'm slappin my clip in, I'm puttin it down,
You been hit from slippin an caulkin yo grip in my town.
(feat. Tuna Bug)
Boy ya can't fuck with this, You bust caps at my Regal and ya missed
Boy ya can't fuck with this, You bust caps at my Regal and ya missed
Boy ya can't fuck with this, You bust caps at my Regal and ya missed
[Verse 1:]
Boy ya can't fuck with this, Ya bust caps at my Regal
Now you're done-diddy-done-didddy-done
And nothing can save ya
Creepin' through your city it's the garden block gator
And I got hemmed up by the feds because of snitches
Shoot up your whole block with the fully's hittin' switches
Since I was new to the city
Ya thought bustin' caps was gonna scare a G off like a kitty? Hell nah
I refuse to loose respect, break necks
To get mines big niggas get checked
And it don't matter who ya are
Cause once you're dead and gone, lfacin' up at stars
It Ain't No Sunsine
[Chorus: x2]
Ain't no sunshine, Ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, when ya gone
[Verse 2:]
I keep my mind on survivin', one in the chamber
My pistol when I'm ridin'
One-times want me dead, the judge wants me strapless
Praying that I'm next to get stuck up on a jack-list
They got me guilty until proven innocent
Cracked my juvenile files, want me washed up the Nile
So-called homies turned on me, and tattled
Had me rattled when I heard the feds was in Seattle
Punk bitch snitches die suckin' on a dick
Wrapped in plastic, floating with they throats slit
Straight razor ear-to-ear nosey ones get stitch scars
Watch the homies hit that ass cause on the yard It Ain't No Sunshine
[Chorus: x2]
Ain't no sunshine, Ain't no sunshine
Ain't no sunshine, when ya gone
[Verse 3:]
See, some think their bad cause they bigger
Sucka-ass nigga caught a slug in the liver
Layin' on the concrete bleedin out the kidney
Fuckin with a young G, got buck quickly
Dropped the gat in his drawers, gave up his set
Spit a loogie on his chest showing no regret
A murder-man, killa, mad at the world
Natural born, jackin bitches for diamonds and pearls
Come bangin' on my door, 15's stacked
I answered with the Mac cause I'm sittin' on Yac
See I'm a G from the hood the BG's idol
I front them caine on the spot cause money is survival
He says whatsup big homie, give a nigga daps
And put that [? ] under the door as I gets the sack
I'm on my toes so be hold on that bergalin'
Cause ain't no sunshine for murder-men
[Verse 4: Tuna Bug]
It's the loc dog psycho, so go for your gun
Cause I'm a go for mine and be a nigga on the run
So that shotgun splatters, eatin' up yo shit
The loom-loon-loom got your windshield in your face, bitch
You can't fuck with a criminal
I fill your shit with holes then send your ass to your funeral
Then who knows, the getaway scheme
Back three's through the G to my house in the tree
I'm livin low, but most of it's high
Cotton mouth the most I think I'll blame it on the buddah thai
And that's why, I live off the gat
Why throw it away? with or without it they gon' watch my ass
Cause it's my first strike so a nigga go for blood
So when it's on, it's me or the fuzz
I'm stuck in the slum and bound to get mine
With one life to live, it Ain't No Sunshine
Tedio domenicale: quanta droga consuma
Tedio domenicale: quanti amori frantuma
Tedio domenicale
Sophia Sapienza Sophia
Incalora le donne ed arde
Arde di uomini
E gli consuma il cuore
Sophia sapienza sophia
Incalora le donne ed arde
Arde di uomini
E gli consuma il cuore
Toccami
Magari solo in sogno
Soffia
Sussurra un'altra volta "vivi"
Io lo sarò
Guardami
Tra le nuvole e i veli
Soffia
Sussurra un'altra volta "vivi"
E io vivrò
Vivrò l'ordine la libertà l'obbedienza
La responsabilità l'uguaglianza
Vivrò la gerarchia l'onore la punizione
Vivrò la libertà d'opinione
La sicurezza il rischio la proprietà
Vivrò la verità che è l'ultima
La prima
La verità ti fa male lo so
Cittadine cittadini
Pargoli enfants teen-agers babies
This is the program, è senza prezzo:
L'antico è favolistico folklore grezzo
Il moderno è iniziato e finito
Voilà l'età del mezzo liberodemocraticoprogresso
Larallalla larallallallalla
Larallalla larallallallalla
Voilà l'età del mezzo liberodemocraticoprogresso
Il moderno è iniziato e finito
L'antico è favolistico folklore grezzo
Cittadine cittadini
Cittadine cittadini
Cittadine cittadini (Larallalla larallallallalla)
Cittadine cittadini
Larallalla larallallallalla...
Tedio domenicale: quanta droga consuma
Tedio domenicale: quanti amori frantuma
Tedio domenicale
Tedio domenicale: quanta droga consuma
Tedio domenicale: quanti amori frantuma
Guarda Sophia, (tedio domenicale...)
Guarda la vita che vola via!
Guarda Sophia,
Guarda la vita che vola via!
Guarda la vita!
Guardala che vola via!
Facevi 'a pizza a Pozzuoli e 'a burina a Roma
E mmò tu fai la Svizzera abbiti a Nuova York
Sophia bella Sophia
Sophia delle altrui brame
Mmmh... quant'è bello in progress 'sto cazzo di reame!
Tedio domenicale: quanta droga consuma
Tedio domenicale: quanti amori frantuma
Tedio domenicale: quanta droga consuma
G: Good evening, this is Mr. Gorbachev-
R: Hello Gorby, this is the White House, Ronald Reagan speaking-
G: Hello, my old friend, how are you today ?
R: Fine ! It's time for our daily chess-match, are you ready ?
G: Yes, my last move yesterday was the Queen from A6 to B6-
They both send their weapons into space-
their people's problems they seem to displace-
the arms-race is what they can't negotiate-
why ain't it chess about what they debate ?
What went wrong on the Gulf of Iran ?
Why did the Russians invade Afghanistan ?
Why not save the money for the armaments
and be chess-partners in the turnament ?
Reagan and Gorbachev play chess on T.V.-
the senate is giving a party on the sea-
the nuclear war will forever be banned-
mais ce progrès
dont notre age se vante
dans tout ce grand éclat
d'un siècle éblouissant
qu'est-ce que vous voulez
que ca m'en faute?
qu'est-ce que vous voulez
que ca m'en faute?
l'atmosphère n'est plus la meme
et je m'embetes, je m'embetes
on va chercher la femme
on va trouver l'amour
et toi dit-moi que tu m'aime
et dit-le moi toujours
l'homme s'évanouit
n'a pas le landemain
avec les yeux fermés
je ne sais pas ce qui se passe
il me faut la chaleur humain
pour bien grandir
est-ce que c'est dangeureux?
est-ce que c'est dangeureux?
on va chercher la femme
on va trouver l'amour
et toi dit-moi que tu m'aime
et dit-le moi toujours
Tempi moderni nuovi forti interessanti
volevo dirti
Hong Kong ritorna a casa
buona fortuna Hong Kong
Hong Kong
Hong Kong
Hong Kong
La guerra è fredda
la guerra è limitata
la guerra è endemica
la guerra è è ciclica
la pace è calda
la pace è contrattata
la pace è labile
la pace è ciclica
E noi che siamo esseri liberi
un ciclo siamo macellati
un ciclo siamo macellai
un ciclo riempiamo gli arsenali
un ciclo riempiamo i granai
la pace è guerra
con spreco di licenze
la guerra è pace
con spreco di ordinanze
E noi che siamo essere liberi
carne
solo per caso raramente
qualche cosa d'altro
un ciclo siamo macellati
un ciclo siamo macellai
un ciclo riempiamo gli arsenali
un ciclo riempiamo i granai
la guerra è fredda
la guerra è limitata
la guerra è endemica
conforme a chi?
conforme a cosa?
conforme a quale strana posa?
va peggio, va meglio
non so dire non lo so
la prima volta fa sempre male
la prima volta ti fa tremare
sei tu sei tu
sei tu chi può darti di più
la terza volta ti fa pensare
la quarta volta stai a guardare
sei tu sei tu
sei tu chi può darti di più
in un eterno presente
che capire non sai
l'ultima volta non arriva mai
l'ultima volta non arriva mai
in questo presente
che capire non sai
sei tu sei tu
sei tu chi può darti di più
il valium mi rilassa
il serenase mi stende
il tavor mi riprende
c'è chi mi dà energia
e chi me la porta via
e voi cosa volete?
di che cosa vi fate?
dov'è la vostra pena?
qual'è il vostro problema?
perchè vi batte il cuore?
per chi vi batte il cuore?
meglio un medicinale
o una storia infernale?
meglio giornate inerti
o dei capelli verdi?
eppur tutto va bene
va proprio tutto bene
manca un po' di appetito e
il valium per dormire l'ho finito
"quando ci penso vorrei tornare
dalla mia bella al casolare
Emilia mia Emilia in fiore
tu sei la stella tu sei l'amore"
e voi cosa volete?
di che cosa vi fate?
dov'è la vostra pena?
qual'è il vostro problema?
perchè vi batte il cuore?
per chi vi batte il cuore?
Tu menti tu menti tu menti menti
conosco chi conosci tu
so dove vai
ti sei preso in giro
ti sei rovinato
ti hanno fottuto
fregato fregato
eri così carino
eri così carino
pigro di testa
e ben vestito
non fai niente di male
niente di ciò che credi
non sai quello che vuoi
non riuscirai ad averlo
niente è gratis
niente è a posto
le insegne luminose attirano gli allocchi
eri così carino
eri così carino
pigro di testa
e ben vestito
affrettati fa presto
il gioco volge al termine
punta sul nero
punta sul rosso
punta di più
il gioco è fatto
la posta sei tu
eri così carino
eri così carino
pigro di testa
e ben vestito
questa volta sul serio
dicono sempre così:
"io sono l'Anarchia"
"ecco un altro Anticristo"
ma eri solo carino
proprio carino
pigro di testa
e ben vestito
senza i blue jeans
eri carino
proprio un amore di ragazzino