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Артист: South Central CartelНазвание : Family ThangДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : gangsta rap west coast rap g-funk west coast hip-hop Видео:
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Nigga Who a real rider is? My family fool! That`s right Puts it down on any hood or clique That`s real trick (Verse 1) It`s the young mackola, slangin crack to stackola The chip motorola holds the .44 to blow ya Dohja smoke ignites the fire like lighters The drop 64`s catch the hoes on sighta Let`s take a trip to where the homies puts it down They get (?) and say I never come around But I`m in traffic, tryna make a proper come up Livin in this hell hole makes me wanna blow my dome up My baby mama is more righteous than they come The hood`s on my back, the child support don`t help me none So now I`m on a mission, niggas in my rear view Damn it`s the homie, what the fuck them niggas up to I bust a U. and still the homies on my backside I grab the .44 hit the petrol in a G-O metro And damn, I still got payments on this muthafucka I lost all the hub caps and the homies I don`t trust `em (Chorus) Well Young Prod if these niggas start trippin And Twin I got your back too if it`s mo` than two And if it`s mo` than three they gotta fuck with me And that`s how it`s gon swing with this family thang (Verse 2) Y`all niggas kill me, feel me down when you up around Clown me, down me when your ass not up around me Now tell me G who`s the fuckin playa hata Mad `cause I put my family up on some paper My homie Joe gave me the `fo on your bitch-ass Hey troop I got your back loc, so won`t you put the smash Down, clowns like you I call haters Mad `cause you jock us but still can`t fade us It`s young trip on a creep as I tips down, man They got nothin to lose but 50 G`s to gain If I maintain a low profile like a Pirelli `Cause niggas be schemin like evil side and wicked dreamin Night after night be havin a nigga straight plottin Like "Oliver Stone" out to get a grip of his own And it`s on and ain`t no fakin niggas out for the takin But if they come at me wrong Rata-tat-tat, ain`t no get bacc (Chorus) (Verse 3) Now from the gate I gots to skate block to block when I`m swervin Puffin up on that herb and still down for curb servin Cutlass on deck, niggas trip, I`m a winner Khakis and Chuck T`s, gold D`s as I bend the Nigga`s block, batteries hot, lockin a 40 Gold Rhimeson packin heat and it`s on Niggas playa hatin `cause I stack the chip, dippin in a C-low Puttin my bang down with my kinfolks I see them half-ass hoes so damn down I used to figure But now I`m hearin shit, it makes me wanna pull a trigger Nigga, I put you down when you had nathin Nigga, but now I`m hearin `bout your playa hatin Rollin in my low-low `64 loc, with my kinfolks Fake-ass locs they get smoked tho` We still deep, we be tight like Vice Grips Collectin chips, dumpin clips on niggas who set trip (Chorus) (Outro) BiAtch Westside and Eastside Takin your ass on a gangsta ride So peep this shit out nigga It`s the "in-a-cut-gang", baby, baby And it`s the South Central Cartel, baby And it`s the Young Prod thang, baby, baby And all them niggas can`t fade me I`m crazy Yeah, we be puttin it down for the 199-muthafuckin-6 You know what I`m sayin? | Похожие исполнители:
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