lirik lagu bloods crips - shit ain't over
[green eyes]
i’m wearin’ my colors: red shirt, red stars and red flags
throwin’ up inglewood
as my bhakis sag
green eyes the y-g
gangsta thug
and i fill your -ss up with tramp 8 slugs
on bloods i gives a f-ck about the crab in the 9-4
and f-ck his moms, i smoke that hoe
1-0-4 the hood that i grew up in
born in red and blood all i be was red
and i chose to be a blood cause i’m a dog
a m-th-f-ckin’ rock waller
checkin’ out crab baller
so now you know when you roll thru the ‘4
i place a knife to your throat
and blow your life outta window
and your -ss will never catch green eyes, please captain save a crab
i smoke his -ss, laugh
and then i stab
back to inglewood on crabs i’m straight dumpin’
rest in peace to a-bay and pumpkin’
the sh-t ain’t over and n-gg- that’s for real
and i gotta lotta more m-th-f-ckin’ crabs to kill
[yank]
it’s the capital n, capital g, capital b, capital h
littlest c but the biggest k
it’s them n-gg-s b khakin’ g red steady slidin’
f-ckin’ major b-tches in c-k ridin’
glidin’ as we roll through the projects
over 10 years in b-tches so a n-gg- gots a gang of respect
so respect the words
from the n-gg-s that’s in red and black
two five line hustlers straight gangsta macks
i get popped from my n-gg-s from the ace to ‘4
they’ll be f-cked – that been tryed to have a gang truce
you better hope you have your four leaf clover
blood, the c-k ain’t over
[laniak]
hoo-ridin’ on the westside, a flame yak again
ridin’ with the homies killin’ hoes and friends
plus a – flashback
to the heart right connected that
it’s ride back to the 9 block you be
you n-gg-s don’t realize i’m from the street
hit around the corner with the elementary
with the homie from the ‘hood
so it’s all good, we bickin’
got word
from travel tickets fadin’ b-tches, killin’ rickets street slippin’
you jacked – oh, you’re a snitch
because the b-tch smoke crack and i got the next hit
extra clip 32 hollow points to the head
n-gg- smokin’ joints, n-gg- smokin’ crab
flamed up in the cut, in the house full of lead
with the strap in my hand
now my lap or in the stash
you know how we do it
on the west side we prove it
hoo-ridin’ i’m shootin’
hoo-dyin’ not confused them
won’t say no names of gang just f-ck any crab thang
is just – cowards run in pack i bust a cap in their brain
with the 9 glock it don’t stop, the 9
blood y-g b-dogs killin’ ricks’ take the flees
crossin’ out the c’s
[lil’ hawk & dogg]
it’s 4 o’clock on the dot now it’s to swoop
i hopped in the boupe finna bust a woop woop!
but no sooner as i hit c-k century
a car full of crabs tryin’ to get with me
so i pulls my ride, straight to the side
since i’m strapped – i’m peelin’ n-gg-s’ caps
punk fools caught the ?? that i stick a deuce-deuce
can’t f-ck wit’ a mac-10, b-tch
handle your business, serve ’em proper
crabs can’t f-ck wit the crenshaw mafia
i’m the hawkster, n-gg- – how did you figure?
red riding hood, m and the l is killas n-gg-s
that’s the m-th-f-ckin’ c-m-g’s/d-l-b
west side y-g’s, and i’m out for a minute to the soldier
and f-ck all crabs n-gg-, the sh-t ain’t over
well it’s me tha n-gg- dogg finna take the f-ck off
with the caddy red coupe with the gold knock off
i got the 4-5 glock, crab drop on the spot
cut-off bhakis with the red ?? socks
i finna take you crab n-gg-s to the old days
when me ?? go fast and ?? bay
as i daze your -ss with this damu sh-t
i’m the hardest though, the c-k hardest
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