skool seven-deuce Chevy's an glass packs representin to the fullest, the west-side of the map where we roll strapped wit black ridas stuck in the mack ridas. [Chrous: C-Bo
2pac aka Makaveli [Hook] I won't deny it I'm still Ridin' For My Nigga Makeveli Got all my niggas with me Straight West Coast mutherfuckin' G's [C-Bo
homicides in front of my eyes. It's just some ballin'-ass niggas down to die for the West Side. [Verse 1: C-Bo] It could be the napalm, droppin' non
shit [J-Bo] I post up get to it, drink hand in hand They call me Mr. Herringbone cuz that's my right hand man Old school straight foolish like no other
lights Up off of the ceiling, BO, BO, BO, BO!! CHORUS 2X Hoo, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ha, Busta Rhymes, Lenny Kravitz, Make Noise now, c'mon
She know what time it is (Don't stop get it, get it, make your body get low wit it) (R)-Ladies and gentlemen! (G)- yeah..? (R)-Introducing! C-Long! [C
'all knew that Da Big Bo$$ Dogg, yeah, I had to do that I keep a blue flag hanging out my backside But only on the left side, yeah, that's the Crip side Ain't no other
Ok, ok, ok This Sean Paul, Lil' John, J-Bo, Youngbloodz You already know how we do it homeboy and we oh It's A-Town (105 Road for dem hoes) It's A-Town
dere Country-ass Bubba Sparxxx, ain't no fuckin' around wit G O again That put me in this backwoods committee My ace Kosha, Bo Hagin', west central Georgia's finest Man Bo
to make a transaction to match three calos, for under the zone, a hundred thousand cash you know da deal, nigga you know da outcome dub C and C Mac take
uestion/Ahmir Thompson] Mr. Dorsey, a.k.a. [PP/Jamal Dorsey] Pazi Plant, The Soul Plant [?uestion/Ahmir Thompson] Mr. Armstead, a.k.a. [Bo/Conway Armstead] Bo
hardcore, fat gospel, street gospel (South, South, Bronx!) Yo where my people at? (South, South, Bronx!) Yo where my heart is at? (South, South, Bronx!) C
from beginning to the end BO South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South, Bronx C'mon let's bring
, that's his hard time Jack B. Nimble was nimble, and he was quick But Jam Master cut faster, Jack's on Jay's dick Now little Bo Peep cold lost her sheep
you gotta be thankful to who? By the way homie what's gangsta to you? Money, dope and alcohol and plenty bitches all up on your dick I got that How can C-Bo
the bigger label Your tri state ways are shut down by barricades In fact I packed my bags, and listened to E-40 Mac Mall, C-Bo, and other rappers you
You do like how I'm living? Well, fuck you Once again it's on, the motherfucking psycho Ice Cube the bitch killa cap peeler Yo, runnin' through the line like Bo