Lyrics:
guns blow like dusty wings
Spend a band, push his wig back whenever revolvers spin
Toe tag 'em, floss flagging like it's all good
Tell niggas tee off
nobody like me
No Copy
Young boy brand so Fiesty
so stop it
And Im never gonna stop it
hit em by the lips just to make another profit
and pullin
(Whassup?)
Tell 'em where you from!
Straight outta Compton, another crazy ass nigga
More punks I smoke, yo, my rep gets bigger
I'm a bad motherfucker,
as fuck
As I leave, believe I'm stompin'
But when I come back, boy, I'm comin' straight outta Compton
Yo Ren
Whassup?
Tell 'em where you from!
as fuck
As I leave, believe I'm stompin'
But when I come back, boy, I'm comin' straight outta Compton
Yo Ren
Whassup?
Tell 'em where you from!
He said pull up, felt a switch hiss through the air
Bleeding out he pray to god
She tell him life ain't fair
I tell all my demons we can do it
We can
gotta kill em all
After I belittle y'all, tell someone else to get involved
They asking me what's next like I'm just blessed here with a crystal ball
I
(Sample)
Young boy in a grown man's body
Young boy with a grown man's soul
I just wanna tell somebody
I just wanna let you know
Young boy in a grown
niggas that been poppin' all that big boy shit
Brand new AP on my wrist, know that's a big boy brick
Hundred rounds from out that chopper, this a big boy
Go on, tell 'em how ya loved it when I touched ya
Heard her name was Jess (Ica)
But now she's your ex (And I'm)
Touchin' on your chest
doing
And tell em that it's not your fault that you love your dream
I decide for my life no one is owning me
Yeah I wrote this song just to conscience you
just brain smarts ya misfits
Since young as hell
Had a story to tell
Twelve in a cell all self
With em soaking in hell
Aint live no crime life
Boy you
liquor, buncha weed, even the reverend gettin' high, yeah
Yeah, yes
And tell my babies not to cry (Boy)
Just give 'em each a hundred racks, then look 'em
understand the vision
My other niggas still banging tryna save em fore they meet the reaper
You find a good one, boy you better keep her
These hoes uh dry yo
their face
I can tell by their handshake
But yo that white boy bout to make more noise than a heavy metal Band make
Talk shit get picked up quick get
In the fire, the smoke is getting higher
The devil is a liar, he a coward if he try me he get cut
We up and we stuck
And we don't give em nothing boy
can tell a nigga straight from Cali Ima pretty boy
Yeah Ima city boy
Bitch why you flaunted off them titties ain't no titty boy
Yes I'm a ass man
You
been a fucking rat
Word play so deadly, ion even gotta throw shots
If my next nigga too friendly, ima pull em down by his locs
Ion brag a lot but this
sick I don't spit I vomit,
Got it?
One egg short of the omelet.
Simon says, shoot a nigga in his thigh and leg,
And tell him catch up like
the soap
Goldie Loc, Tray Deee, Too Short, no doubt
Tell 'em how we eat and what we all about, nigga
These hoes know, what's up, niggaz been havin' game
My wife looking good, so I tell her she slayed
They ask how I did it, I tell 'em
I prayed, yeah
I prayed for a blessing, it hit, got a double
Ain't
You don’t know a thing boy
You shouldn’t speak boy
Me tribe nah to Limba
Madinka Nikka the tribe runs deep in the motherland
The Otherland the land
pass em by
Bad guys and we certified
Operating in the candle light
Y'all been dreaming I've been living living
You can have the clubs know city mine
get with 'em
[High Beam]
Ah!
[Chorus]
When I look that fool in his face and tell him he's a lie
Everybody want a cure but nobody want to die
.jpg/261px-Lol_Creme_1976_(cropped).jpg "Lol Creme"){kind=spacer}
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