Lyrics:
ground ground
Cut up in soul soul by the pound pound
I'm going downtown like Julie Brown I'm the round mound
Not a rebound but like a hound I get
fiend feelin' the funk, cuz when we unite
Like fire ignite and light up the night with lines that I write
The pen hit the pad after I hit me a dab
Always
(E-40)
Yeah E-40 and the muthafuckin see-l-I-see-k in this muthafucka, you know
I got my cousin Kaveo on the muthafuckin side of me
We fin to spit
know the flavor, homie
It's stitched by Slick, so it's sick as fuck
Police behind me, they on my nuts
But they'll never catch a G like me
I do
baby-daddy fucked wit me,
But I'm out on you hoes,
Wit the 10 g belt,
The only thing I'm concentratin' on is checkin' my mail,
What the hell??!! what
guys who write rhymes from the heart
Twenty four chambers of love six layers of funk
One creator above and not a chance that we ever giving up
My DNA
paid by the G's wit ease (word up)
We're blowin' up your fuckin' spot (no doubt)
'Cause when you're hot, you're hot and when you're not, you're not
to it
Now what why'all know 'bout how The Coup do it
Truth fluid, Boots put the funk to it, ain't nothin to it
This is for the G's all the way
niggas
We are capital G
Fresh from the T to the D still
Bringing this funk to the beat
Freestyles coasting a fee, nigga
We playing for keeps
Aw beep beep
nothin' but love
Hosted by the ladies who lookin' for somethin' to rub
When we roll out, we roll on dubs, rollin' up bud
The Theodore Unit, we
the man can't cheat
And make it pop, cause we're already poppin
So I'm whistlin, sittin on the dock by
The bay, singin 'ay-hey,' can you copy?
Boomin like
at
All right Ma, I checked out all my niggas then we jetted
With fifty balls a piece brought a piece for unleaded
Smokin' blunts forty ouncin', G and P
a gangsta, I don't need rap for nothin'
And only play games in the A or Compton
Hop by the box, Chevy murder, any man standin'
It's Boyz N Da Hood, E tell 'em
[Intro: Humpty Hump (Del)]
This is a federal food fight
(You better know it!)
That means we're callin out all you kooks and crooks
(What?! We
shot that ricochets
Start trouble bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways
Gotta love me, G-O-D no one above me
Look good but fuck ugly, tap your jaw
From my
now I'm trippin
On MC's cliche, shot that ricochets
Start trouble bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways
Gotta love me, G-O-D no one above me
Look good
now I'm trippin
On MC's cliche, shot that ricochets
Start trouble bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways
Gotta love me, G-O-D no one above me
Look good
about the mc
And I'ma tell you about the bootlegger, ok?
Here we go children
It happened at a jam, some kid tried to sham on the program
So I had
the mc
And I'ma tell you about the bootlegger, OK?
Here we go children
It happened at a jam, some kid tried to sham on the program
So I had
And we be blastin' smashin' for the loot
I empty my strap and then I dash to my Coupe
Ain't no half steppin' it's West Coast til I die
Keepin'
we true and flew in life
Leave us JD and rock a party all night tight nigga
One two three four five six seven
I can rap like hell but make
to it
Now what why'all know 'bout how The Coup do it
Truth fluid, Boots put the funk to it, ain't nothin to it
This is for the G's all the way
Compton, it's South Central like a bitch
Another gee with a gaffled gangster pitch
If your game is weak, you speak straight punk
If funk jump you're soft
to creep
It's not Compton, it's South Central like a bitch
Another gee with a gaffled gangster pitch
If your game is weak, you speak straight punk
If funk
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