Teksty piosenek > S > Spice 1 > Strap on the Side prod. Black Jack
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Spice 1 - Strap on the Side prod. Black Jack

Strap on the Side prod. Black Jack

Strap on the Side prod. Black Jack

Tekst dodał(a): CrunkBoy Edytuj tekst
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Teledysk dodał(a): ComptonFan Edytuj teledysk

Tekst piosenki:

Rollin with my muthafuckin' strap on the side of me
Don't fuck with the East Bay Gs

[Verse 1]
Buck 'em down with the clip and the trigga
Screamin' like Eiht, yelling "Come on nigga"
Nappy-head muthafuckas in a Coupe de Ville
Lightin' shit up like Fire Marshal Bill
You see, I hops on the flow like my nigga Domino
And get a big fat sack of yay-ay
A key or a half, a motherfuckin' thang, pistol-whipped him with an AK-ay
Peep this, loddi-doddi, I shot up his body
I left his ass bloody in the front of the party
It's a yig-a-young nigga rollin' up out the cut
Do a drive-by with the feds on my nuts
Niggas be gettin' gatted when they step to this G
See, I pull my muthafuckin' UZI
And, spill his brain (spill his brain)
Spill his brain (spill his brain)
Spill his brain in his muthafuckin' lap
I pulls a jack (pulls a jack) Pulls a jack (pulls a jack)
And shoot the heart out his muthafuckin' back
I'm comin' with the 187, not with that ho shit
So niggas, spark up the bomb, so we can blow shit

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Comin' up in a mask like Tales from the Crypt
UZ thang swallows that ass like Lipton, nigga
And now, they're trying to wander and figure
How the fuck Charles Manson turned himself to a nigga
Put a blast on their ass with the holes of the barrel
Bullets fly in a chest like a muthafuckin' sparrow
Cause we get like Steven King, bodies swing from my ceiling
Oak was in the chest when it's time for cap peelin'
9-4, hit the do with a fat gat
Comin' like this, break em down like that
The nigga with the bags and the fat crack sack
Po-Poes on my back, blow their ass off the map
With the 187, mad man killa
Spill a nigga guts for the fuck, cause, I'll be...

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
It goes one for the treble, you don't wanna floss
Unless you wanna flex with my bitch you Nina Ross
Ga-a-gat that ass with the double-deuce Derringer
From the bay area, the pall-burier
Six niggas carry ya, momma in hysteria
Welcome to your muthafuckin' coffin, they'll stare at ya
Cause, you're a dead muthafucka black
And you never should have fucked with the 187 Fac
So nick-nack paddywhack, give a G a gat
And put some bullets in that ass crack
Yeah, break em down with the mac
And like John Madden '93, "Boom, he's on his back"
Spice 1 is a muthafuckin' troopa
So, say what's up to the East Bay Freddy Krueger
Blow the head off the muthafuckin' cow
When my gat goes off like an M1000
Take the hood off your hooptie when I bust a cap
Rollin with my muthafuckin' strap on my side

[Hook]

 

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