| The affiliates nigga |
| Pay attention |
| Aye Woogie |
| Mind your business kid |
| Get stock your pictures and meet your rock fences |
| Tryna hide from your senses |
| Take a model, we allow interest |
| In the crowd with the quickest kickin niggas in the ditches |
| Cuz we’ve got a center we could drop vicious |
| The road less travel cause its men to go without |
| Wild rappers sound soft as Mickey Mouse wearing stretched pants |
| So just the fans do a Disneyland dance |
| The more flamboyant |
| Blind but I run it with the clarity and vision so they call me clairvoyant |
| Engineer for your sheer enjoyment |
| The unseen, I make em come clean up off it |
| Torture and torments |
| We chase the revenge, might tantalize retirements |
| Them scruntin out and terrorized, strong on specialized in severing lies |
| Then send em off to Bishop Lamont to get baptized |
| They need oxygen |
| The soft shit will suffocate the breath out the east and the west |
| The north and the south, let’s help em |
| CPR, Cali professional rap stars — here we are |
| Don’t kill em Bishop |
| Let me get em for you |
| Hit with the energy to kill that beat |
| Believe in short term memory, but steal the skill |
| We keep burning and reveal the real, now get going |
| Rough like the skin around my neck |
| Love it, whatever |
| Nigga dirty like the bottom of my shoes rubber |
| That’s how I bounce raps over tracks, stacks over racks |
| Plaques hanging over the cracks |
| Nocturnals revenge, blood on the seringe |
| Crowd control, I power steer em like the Benz |
| Seats hugging like dykes while I’m meeting Mike and Ikes |
| My stereo be bumpin like my stereotype |
| Light burnin like the red flag warning |
| Follow the backwood trail that lead you to the water |
| Thirsty like niggas like me |
| Cool like jeans shorts with my spizz, I do the right things |
| Rugged like my brothers in Iraq |
| Attacking my problems like a highjacker or a linebacker |
| My fate got no fear factor |
| I’m up late, putting in work, I wanna move faster |
| They need oxygen |
| The soft shit will suffocate the breath out the east and the west |
| The north and the south, let’s help em |
| CPR, Cali professional rap stars — here we are |
| Don’t kill em Bishop |
| Let me get em for you |
| Hit with the energy to kill that beat |
| Believe in short term memory, but steal the skill |
| We keep burning and reveal the real, now get going |
| The blackhearted angel with a gun and a halo |
| Breathe til my energy seize and will I say so |
| My city breed killers nigga you can observe |
| That’s why I really sound happy when I write these words |
| I’m a product of the game, born into the cocaine era that spread over the |
| nation like bad weather |
| There’s something in the air round here |
| I can’t even explain it |
| God it even feels hot when it’s rainin |
| Niggas been gangbangin since Carter and Reagan |
| Made millions, killed thousands, still ain’t shit changing |
| Tell my niggas Bishop hit em with that reformation |
| Caltroit, chase infinite, that’s elevation |
| Surrounded by the essence of hate, we breathe light in the game |
| So you can inhale life in your brain |
| Surrounded by the devils and snakes who breathe light in the game |
| Frontin, fill a couple shots in the frame |
| Breathe. |
| They need oxygen |
| The soft shit will suffocate the breath out the east and the west |
| The north and the south, let’s help em |
| CPR, Cali professional rap stars — here we are |
| Don’t kill em Bishop |
| Let me get em for you |
| Hit with the energy to kill that beat |
| Believe in short term memory, but steal the skill |
| We keep burning and reveal the real, now get going |