Lyrics:
a spleen witta gangsta lean
[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It was a dark blue night, nigga toe down sleep
Had a 40 ounce of E and half ounce of weed
Just got
Swollen, mane
And then, bang!
It's a battleaxe thing
Street fight, pit fight, red nose, blue nose
Old school vinyl so cold like blue note
Head spin,
you say you love me (oh Mr. Blue)
Then prove it by going out on the sly
Proving your love isn't true
Call me Mr. Blue
supposed to choke?
Had an accident when the Trojan broke
Aw, poor baby, born by a whore lady
Now I gotta strangle an (you're crazy), ha
I pop four E's
supposed to choke?
Had an accident when the Trojan broke
Aw, poor baby, born by a whore lady
Now I gotta strangle an (you're crazy), ha
I pop four E's
lie
I like to keep it honest
I ain't gotta try 'till I'm by
Chick wanna jump into my ride
Go beast, Mr hyde ooh we goin' out of sight
I'm with JJ, we
I gotta count my money by the bags
I done ran through the rags, now I get to see riches
Went from having rats to the superstar bitches
Used
Rogers
The Knightowl's always dressed in blue
Like the mothafuckin Dogders
I'm bald like Mr. Clean
And I got a big fat ding-a-ling
I'll bruise that ass
and raised up in the ghetto
Never leave the scene till the bomb smoke settled
California, we're nothing but devils
Though we sport blue rags and carry prison
by this stalagtite
You can run it back and catch a can of the act right
Whole squads full of bad decisions
But we still making plays go from rags
of Valium inside her palm
It's Mr. Mischief with a trick up his sleeve
Roll up on you like Christopher Reeves
I can't describe the vibe I get
When I drive by
The name of the lion was Wallace,
The poke in the ear made im wild
And before you could say ""Bob's yer uncle""
E'd upped and e'd swallowed the child.
E were
him back?
Give me the mac, let me welcome with that
Tell Mr. Rogers, I leave his brains on the trolley track
Now prolly that
Listen, ya'll stop
mio linguaggio faccio Gang signs
Gold chain swangin, Specializzato in gankin
Giro per la street ho la Blue rag hangin
Ho la Blue rag hangin
Pacchi di
and gigglin'
Mercy, take a look at that wigglin'
See the cutie in the corner
She's losin' her blues by stompin' outta her shoes
The folks are hoopin' n' hoppin'
you want to fling rock
Well, I'll be cruising by, you'll never see a smoother guy
Niggas getting smoked just like the Buddha tye
I'm rocking well like
the bangin'
On any given day like Mr. Cooper, yo we hangin'
Under the blue sky, the state laced in smog
Pollute your quarter inched cables with all the sound
Ohhhh... that's how you feeling right now Tone?
You know they can't rap with us
Black by
Black by
Black by popular demand, on demand
And I'm Black
you ever seen a crip with a grey rag
Before your death's slide through the section, you gon' see that
Thick bitch, long weave and her ass fat
On global
shotgun, coolin' with my man fresh Wes
The royal blue Brougham was a drop top rag
You could tell we was pimps from the Las Vegas tags
'Cause that's how we
Right
Uhhhh
Let's do this, one time baby
Uhhh
Yea-yea
Yah, yo
Whattup ma, the name H doe, I'm into pesos
V.I.P. and champagne by the caseloads
At Venice by the ocean
Rag-top Trey hits the three-wheel motion
There's gangsters all around
Still crazy sets, but you just don't clown
I pray L.A. can stay
hood in a blue low-low
Sportin' Carhartt jeans with a chrome 4-4
PRODEJE:
G maneouvres, increasin my retaliation
Shob niggas provoke could equal
Fuck it, H-A-T-E- M-E do that
Your whispers don't reach me, I'm somewhere getting blew back
I'm probably in a blue lac, or maybe in a red jag,
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