Lyrics:
shit
This that category 5, this that quake, bitch
See I'm so funked out, like out of here
Like blue lights in the basement
And it's a red state, in
It's your boy Khao, man
West Coast
We here
Let's go (Khao)
This that shit that make a nigga throw the West up
Black, brown, red, blue, nigga,
bottles of Ciroc
And bowls of red grapes members of
Meek's entourage
Old friends who he now semi-employs
For a variety of unspecific tasks
Drift in and out
better bundle up
And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion
Yes the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up
Don't you know cops' whole purpose is
the police department
It is the Army, the Navy
It is the prison system, the courts, and what have you
This is the State, it is a repressive organization
problem. You've got a leak
Deborah said
What do you mean a leak? Onion leek?
No, not an onion leek
There's a drop of blood on the floor, she told Deborah
a 40 when the sun go down
It's a cold winter, y'all niggaz better bundle up
An' I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion
Yes, the ROC gets down, you
they killed them all"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison
they killed them all"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison
they killed them all"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison
the Wobblies
We are the anti-state, we are the victory
We are the soldiers who lay down their guns
We are the ones who will do what is to be done
We are the red
And they been on the climb tryna find proof proof proof
Open up yo eyes and you might find you you you
We wavy and we red hot
I know they gon head
Bitch, yeah, ha
Compton most wanted
Haunted by the ghost of the dead
Climbing out the casket
With a bullet in the head
All blue, all red, smothers
When the sun go down
Nothing but tears, no onions
Under the ungodly functions
187s and robbery will come
Don't go looking for it
Don't look like you hard
hand
This a lugubrious game if you fuck with the gang
Then that blood turning red from that blue in your veins
Living still life means I'm stuck in
Muh muh muh muh
My mind states in a higher place
My mind's designed to rhyme for a higher pay
My nine will rise and fry he who violates
Burning
Any day now, Quadron Wilson will be released from prison early
He's the man who was surrounded by more than 20 local, state, and federal agents
a 40 when the sun go down
It's a cold winter, y'all niggaz better bundle up
An' I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion
Yes, the ROC gets down, you
ninja nick naks
Always downloading it pays to be knowing
Dark web flowing, Tor links, onion crypts showing
Coin price on my ice, at the flick
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
It's the Em from the state productions
In the booth with me I got Detoxify
Tee-ar up, Panda Tee
And of course the one and only Ab
the muscle like I been weightlifting
this all up off the hustle I had to stay with it
this for that nigga struggle the ones in state prison
the ones with fake
times for the lazy kid
Then I moved up to the city
Where my pockets grew more pickles
That onions preserved in liquids
All my problems cash related
So when that time comes
They'll never be taking orders from Wes (yes)
“Let me get a medium number 2 no onions with a coke”
I think I'm dope
But
youngins
Clapping with my youngin's, couple hundred onions
Breaking down them 20's what you need, we got it for you
Chop the chicken down to chicken
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