Lyrics:
struggles of a playa in the chill
Come on and take a ride, triple to legit ballers
Shot-shot callers
(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)
Tigers all up in
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
a whole new chapter
Youngins ready to pop up
If you talkin shit, lil nigga better pop us
Drop us, nobody comparin nobody tops us
Rasta, dreads swang, I'm
want to fuck around wit us
Come out of the trunk, with a AK with us
Better watch out for brains, you got a one hitter quitter
Nigga we the Southside,
Picasso with the bars
She's well put together like a piece by Gershwin
Renaissance style, tonight is picture perfect
So smile, and pack your bags real
Picasso with the bars
She's well put together like a piece by Gershwin
Renaissance style, tonight is picture perfect
So smile, and pack your bags real
us, by us
(For you), by us
(For you), by us
(For you), by us
I'm tired of hearing about what all these rappers'll do
First of all, none of y'all
Ride that wip that the ballers drive
Big GT Royce Chevy that's ridin' high
Swang on 'em when you ridin' by and I'm gone
Where do we go from here
It's all hood, put him on the set
It's all hood, it's all hood
(L.A., City of Angels)
It's all hood
We from the West Coast, The City of Angels
Where
took a loss,
Nigga get tossed by the boss,
And I'm off the hook when I put it down Bone,
Wanna fuck with a thug, ya wrong,
All around they lay when I
by your fragrance I’m memorized by your taste.
The way that all of this started exactly what we became. La flame.
Hook
First flight, first flight,
sweeped up, in and out like that
It ain't really time for us to dance
Till then it's "fuck love", that's a dramatic fact
Only thing there is to do is get
and crush this bitch,
So scream it if ya ambition fit,
I put my money on the roof and crush this bitch,
Sing it niggas, la la la la la la la la la la,
Ye
high
Be like by bitty bye biddy biddy byebye
Put the blunt down, here's the rundown
Riding sundown slide us out the front
Ill get you high, won't
want to fuck around wit us
Come out of the trunk, with a AK with us
Better watch out for brains, you got a one hitter quitter
Nigga we the Southside,
Yo, what it is? What it do? What's goodie?
You are now tuned in to the sounds of
A Tribe Called De La Peas
L.A. New York collabo
Y'all know what
the stock, nigga
Same old boppers, leader of the new school
Spraying on them lockers, no rain gon' stop us
Put the swang on yoppers, flush on the bottom
Gold
dope, slang dope, slang dope, slang that dope
Slang dope, swang my door, slang dope, slang dope
Slang dope, slang dope, slang that dope, slangin' dope
gotta put Kirko on
Bitches know I'm 'bout it, man
Love the way that I swang that chrome
I be all in her body man
Every bitch that I fuck, I own
Uh, while
on two-five
Or your big brother put you on like surprise
Hearing my hood described
So vivid you could see it by closing your eyes
Maybe it was the age
and ridin' 4s
So you can just say that I'm ridin' high
Ridin' fly on my pilot shit, first class
Continental
Double cup full of sleepin' potion
Sweet full of LA
swang, ya saw crawlin
Ha, money talks, if you not talkin, then stop callin
[Verse 3 - Chamillionaire - imitating Z-Ro]
Try me just one time, I show you
faygo
First things first R-I-P uncle Phil, Jermaine cole
Spin around us like a tornado
You can't say no
Pull up to yo mans with a custom Draco
On your
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