Lyrics:
cool I never take my coat off
Detroit Diesel; flex it middle finger to my foes YUH
Do the heavy liftin' pistol poppin' like a piston
Guarantee you won't
and 187's
Homies passing away, taking trips up to heaven
So dear Lord, if you hear me please bless me tonight
I know I'm wrong but don't let the cops
prêt si tu viens au contact (sku)
9.3, 9.4 (han) 20-20, c'est toujours code 1.8.7 (paw, paw)
S/o Kaki (OBS) ils marquent pas même en 28 sets (sku,
meiner Jacke, 187 auf der Fahne
Mir scheißegal, wer du Hurensohn bist
Denn du wirst nie ein Teil meiner Crew
Menschen wie du interessieren mich nicht
das' bigger than rap
187, Digga, gib ma' einen Check
Was weißt du über Gang?
Kaufen uns zusammen einen Benz (oh)
Guck, wie er im Sunshine glänzt
another victim of a 1-8-7
Who's the gream reaper with your life in his hand
Even the toughest niggas run when my gun go blammm
So kick back and watch
Yeah, it's time to wake up
Wake up and cake up
It's 187.4 FM on your dial
The number 1 station via satellite, CD, radio and your stereo
But Top Dogs camp ain't nothin' to fuck with
And don't say we didn't warn ya
I got this Detroit thang with more love that California
Drunk DJ
a Pilgrimage
Run Detroit all the way back to the Brooklyn Bridge
Black bats and as the crime rhyme spray in my max
Spendin my wax
I'm Feelin' one time
[x8]
[verse two]
So shut up motherfuckers as I laid the ink
When I'm in Detroit,niggers fight in mink
When I'm in Chicago,motherfuckers get buck wild
to the shore by the watchers of the bay
I wait, til I come back like a tsunami
Never microwave like the watchers of the weight
I'm wrapped in aluminum foil, I do
the window, you see me (skrrt, let this bitch down)
We got ARs, .45s, nines, in the two-tone Lamborghini (let's go, let's go)
I'll walk in the bitch by myself
Uh (227)
From where niggas don't make it out alive (Detroit)
Let's get it
As long as I woke up today, I do not have one complaint
Still sick
Where we at with it?
Block West, let's get it
Slums of Detroit, drugs on the port
Plug with the source
Gun in my shorts, blood was the sport
that
No problem, (why?) because I got it like that
A Baby Bam beat and an African rap
My partner by my side, Sammy be is on the cut
Your DJs
I'm Ready
Detroit born and raised
Eastside 7mile
I spent most of my days
Mom and pop split ways
To westside I reside
The zip code a lie
To go
my work up through Detroit feel like a Piston
Really like mixing drugs up in my lemonade dirty Lipton
Huh uh
I really want me a rich bitch London
signals sayin' that a 187 land on your corner,
Coroners comfort your mama, mama he's dead,
The next morning high toasted up with my homies
We drink
King Boo, rest in peace
Yeah, that's right y'all
Radio station, 187.4FM on your dial
And this one's brought to you
By Dogg House Records
Welcome
ever so destructive fucking place
Jay frenzal broke our bus
Ya jay frenzal went ape shit he smashed our bus
In detroit michigan with a 2 by 4
people, for real
Cops say it's illegal to have a Yuk tape in your possession
Niggas keep going to jail for 11, 350's and 211's
187's, concealed weapons,
with that thug in you
Take it slow we gon' pace the flow
I know you're thinking devilish
Cause the girl roll 1-8-7ish (Murda!)
Get it back, my
hip-hop was good
There lived a little boy who was misled
By a little Sha-tan and this is what he said
"Me and you kid we gonna make some cash
Jacking
thought at night that comforts me is starving whoever's hunting me
Shit, lucky me, to be rich in a world where nothing's free
And separated from hell by
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