lirik lagu bloods crips – gangsta shit
– send corrections to the typist
[big wy]
yeah
that gangsta–ss sh-t
y-g
y m-th-f-ckin’ g’s
woop! woop!
let these n-gg-s know man
that’s right, n-gg-
yo punk, what’s up fool?
lil’ dawg
[lil’ hawk]
now – i’m headed to the store, once again it’s on
you call it thunderbird i call that sh-t jim jones
i need a fifth
to start off my m-th-f-ckin’ day
i’m feeling good as f-ck and i’m almost my way
just c-k
these – punk–ss n-gg-s this is c-m-g
your number one crab killas (that’s right)
from the 4 to the shaw even century
on figueroa we gotta sowed up
rollin’ with the d.o.b.
f-ck crabs cause n-gg- i blast from the o.g. inglewood (to denver and nebraska)
and i ain’t f-ckin’ with no bustas
only them damu ridin’ c.k’in’ motherf-ckers
and they ain’t show no mercy when they hoo-ride
leavin’ no clues but a motherf-ckin’ homicide
lil’ hawk y-g quick to spree
and c-k you should’ve been a b-the-d-the-o-the-g’zee, fool
ahahaha…
[bronco]
motherf-ck’ a handshake, hugs and a peace treaty
cause i’ll be d-mned if i’m caught slip ‘n slidin’ with my f-ckin’ enemy
now it’s the time to leave the plan of the dot
open your chest or your vest slobs and see you later bop
paper this -ss wax bangers the sh-t done hit the fan locs
squabble and shoot with any and all of you snoop hoes
n-gg- choose your m-th-f-ckin’ weapon
brown this br-ss knuckles or the black smith and wesson – i’m guessin’
that you would play the tough guy and think that you’re the sh-t
but i be comin’ quick with hollow tips and extraclip
fully and creep for the set trip cause i know this sh-t’s stompin’
sn-tch your heart outta your chest
and we can watch you stop breathin’
toe tag, body bags, homicides and hoo-ride
east side rip ridaz it’s ever denver on mine
f-ck all slobs cuz, you die motherf-cker
[batman]
six m-th-f-ckas, 357 hollow point magnum sh-lls
closed casket made this crab mama yell
pendleton, khakis, pig tails
and stars on my feet
me and puff had to wreck
and my homie six ten his feet
i creep ??? specialty
cause i’m a professional
g-ngb-ng is gangsterism
i live my life in dangerous ways
i go days without eatin’ i’m steady sippin’ on night train
c-k rider killin’ crabs till i die
gangsta mr. bat
n-gg-s wonder why why i put it down on a m-th-f-ckin’ crab n-gg-
east side swan gangsta back
down to pull the trigga comin’ through the alley with a m-th-f-ckin’ a-k
yeah, n-gg- – yellow tape
f-ck crabs
f-ck crabs f-ck crabs f-ck crabs!
shots out to the bloods and pirus, what’s up blood?
ninety four – we out
[six pac]
crip or cry, crip or cry, crip, crip, crip or die
snoops rest in peace, n-gg- you know why
mobbin’ down the 3rd, flamed up – like a fire truck
face to face with death stuck sh-t outta luck
n-gg- you just met a dark angel
you can say i walk my satan cause i smoke a slobs handle
kidnap a b-dog then shoot him to the franklin squares
and let the homies take it for me
n-gg- you like red so much
now check this out
time to a chin broke -ss on his head and mouth
but if it’s on then it’s on stick a smash to him
and show the rest of his slob homies how we do him
fool i ain’t playin’ for this 9-4 season
east side f.c.g. n-gg- you know the reason
blue rag hangin’ out the blue d-ckies
mobbin’ down the 3rd, got a mausberg with me
it ain’t no secret how i’m smokin’ a snoop
i take a trip to the 5th and give me a stick and let loose sh-t
and now i figure like the king of the planet
you ain’t crippin’, you slippin’ about to meet my automatic
yeah n-gg- f-ck all slobs, this is f for death
[green eyes]
now it’s a must that i bust on these crabs quick
my m-th-f-ckin’ ??
straight bustin’ out of the station wagon, never draggin’
i gots to kickin’ in out
down in a hole ??? and killin’ every wearin’ flue nap
what’s next?
on my m-th-f-ckin’ menu i got to ?? some m-th-f-ckin’ crab
so put a f-ckin’ cap into
the he-rs- and stripes
green eyes ?? some mo’
and i bend i catch you slippin’, b-mpin’, steady dippin’ on a ‘4
and let me show you f-ckin’ crabs hollow i can get
i kill your whole family and your pregnant crab b-tch about to get birth
to a baby crab
now that n-gg- sh-t outta luck
that’s why i murder the lil’ f-ck
this bangin’ on wax deuce
f-ck a truce
big wy i’m high so p-ss the m-th-f-ckin’ gin and juice
while i slip the clip in it commence the set trippin’
and smoke all these m-th-f-ckin’ crabs that i catch slippin’
yeah f-ck the crabs, i got to say what’s up to the i-f-g gang
[awol]
i went to church for years but i only learned one thang goods
so you can’t blame it on jesus
cause i said love for the neighborhood
i got a cuzzin from elm and one from the mob
i put that on my daddy, i’m a killer n-gg-s, f-ck slob
where you from loc you don’t have to ask me
?? in my tag so my k-p it ain’t sh-t
i served snoops on cherry street
asiatic central ?? where the compton’s meet fool
i g-ngb-ng, hoo-bang, war-bang
see my name struck up on the 91 freeway
so all slobs better hide tonight
hide tonight cause the k gang’s hoo-ridin’
on my side – east side – your side
them slobs from the other side get off for fight, right
you might run from a kelly with heat
cause the slobs ain’t dead got to rest in peace, n-gg-
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- lirik lagu birthday party – bully bones
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