Lyrics:
keep on and
Rock the house!
Now I kick a lyric live, rip rockin rhymes
A line on time, a fine design
All the girls, look my way
All on mines
gets pushed by Sony
I'm in the middle like monie
And the press say that
My own people disowned me
And the best way back
Is to keep your head
out my face, I'm wasted
(Ladies and gentlemen blaze ya dead homie )
Get basted, tipsy and wasted
Bitch, pop a molly and get naked
You can be my
kinda throwed
Im comin down ridin with my partnas, fuck a hoe
Those hoes out to get ya for everything
But Im out there tryin to come up and swang
Or chop
finna drop
Shake sum and go get it hot, The first 48 finna drop, Bitch
One, Never leave the house without my mother fucking gun
Two, Never let no nigga
you better lock your door
Five, six beatnuts in the mix
Seven, eight now let's get it straight
Nine, ten for everybody that slept
YOU better watch your
wit' me but it won't be easy
To get my baby
You don't know who you messin' with (Hmmmm)
Most of them leave with the car doors bent
(Yea-yea-yea-yea-yea)
mean you my pa'tner in crime
Like that check this out let's let 'em know summin'
You know niggas should've been plugged up
From L.A.
mean you my pa'tner in crime
Like that check this out let's let 'em know summin'
You know niggas should've been plugged up
From L.A.
he in the house
It's, it's Freaky Tah he in the house
My man Pretty Lou he in the house
My whole main Compton crew, bounce
Everybody is outside,
play that shit, travis?
Me and my friends hang out at my house a lot
Whether we're skateboarding or swimming or
Playin' a game or
Someone cooking some
life, Styrofoam cups, no ice
Party 'fore we go inside
Never let 'em out my sight, they're right by my side
Them my ride-or-dies, them my ride-or-dies
your whole crew put 'em all in your pocket
If your feelin' sick rub it on with Vicks
'N take two to six of our sweet super mix
Your street time is
your whole crew put 'em all in your pocket
If your feelin' sick rub it on with Vicks
'N take two to six of our sweet super mix
Your street time is
the dead through seven LED screens
All programmed to channel 13
They conversate and have a laugh and tell a joke or two
You probably think I'm out my skull
of a crown
You better bow down then get up
I won't let up or let go
I take the hate they throw and
Embody it for the energy to go turn up at my
Sold-out shows
school
Just like trout jumping out they house to let they gills cool
Cuba-scuba couldn't take the temperature of my skill pool
I said it feels cool
get got
One time's on my dick, fuck it
Jump out, run through the alley to the bucket
Now the bullet starts to travel, I'm cold, I shiver
But fuck it
black out
Even white lives matter when I black out
Bucket of black paint in front the White House, nigga
(Yeah! Yeah!) I hope I'm in Obama's iPod
out
Even white lives matter when I black out
Bucket of black paint in-front the white house nigga
(Yeah! Yeah!)
I hope I'm in Obama's iPod
Yeah,
on hisself, when I pull out my strap
Got a chrome fo'-five, bout nine in the clip
In two ?? days, begin to mobb and dip
It's just another tale of some
the name
Assed out in the bleachers stay shittin on the game
I suppose what you're spittin is flames, cowards
Know your crew was vaginal, I could smell
like you knew us
Deep down I'm the new plug
Y'aint bout to get two doz
Peeps frown when they crew scrubs
Sweet sounds from the two subs
Beats loud is
get everything you ever wanted baby
That's my word
Trust, my niggas come home from long bids
They check for me before they see their own kids
I
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