hang around this bitch and bang my shit) If we gutta nigga G.U.T.T.A. (I dont play that shit, I dont play that shit) Our coke niggaz never givin dudes the way [Verse: C-Los
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, sellin' out like it ain't nothin' man I ain't with it Dig it, I'm just a brother from L.A. South Central, I live life the fly way Used to bang and
We W-W-C, if you can't keep up, shoulda stayed home My-my-my alien knowledge be makin' other astronomers Welcome to Los Angeles, a discovery of palentology
told me hip hop pays So I says I strays aways from L A's average 'Cause C.K-in' and B.K-in' was bein' a savage And M.C.-in' and QDJ-in' was bringin'
take your girl home From the south but get hiffy like the BANG Real dudes lean back and do what the hook say [Hook x4] [Verse 3: C-Los] I'm C-los I'
[Chorus] Doin my own (own) thing (thing) And if you got a problem with that Then the nina go bang (bang) bang (bang) And I be everywhere on the map but
Stop at the store make my bitch pump the gas And when we get home bitch you fitting to cut my grass In my cutlass, 1982 My baby mama tell me Los I ain
n****s I'm sellin records like thugs selling drugs Gettin mad love Cause I bring it real Sh*t is tight if, and I bang green for my skits (???) (Chorus
ya brains Send a lil homie get ya chain M.O.B. Yeah fuck the clique ya claim From N.Y.C. to C.P.T. This L.B.C. The Game: L.A Dodgers cap, with my
Jada You wouldn't know if you should head bang or belly dance playa I'm that sand nigga type of Johnny Cochran yaw dig World wide like H.C. Andersen,
course High, lift 'em up high, okay When that adrenaline get in they system It get 'em out on a quest for stardom Could be a motherfuckin' problem in Philly Cincinatti, Los
hat sein 7ner getuned Dein Team deine Crew, alle eure Lieder sind schwul CCN, morgen schon auf CNN, du sagst HDGDL, und ich schies BANG BANG www.
(I'm King News and I come to you with the truth The mean streets took six more lives overnight all the result of gang-bang stupidity By the way, you gangsters
Hits Ya Brains Send A Lil Homie Get Ya Chain M.O.B. Yeah Fuck The Clique Ya Claim From N.Y.C. To C.P.T. This L.B.C. [The Game:] L.A Dodgers Cap, With
what we hoppin' out My feary side, where we ride and we all fly high In the leer G5's, so twist ya fingers up and bang mufucka bang Get ya money up,
' out My feary side, where we ride and we all fly high In the AM G5's, so twist ya fingers up and bang muf**ka bang Get ya money up, this cane is what
hoppin out My feary side, where we ride And we all fly high in the Leer G5's So, twist ya fingers up and bang, mufucka bang! Get ya money up, this cane
