Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Set Trippin', artist - Bloods & Crips. Album song Bangin' on Wax 2…the Saga Continues, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.02.1994
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dangerous
Song language: English
Set Trippin' |
Catch the beat for the Ace Duece Trey |
Big Freeze is in effect for 94 and I’mma spray |
Tec-9 hollow point tips on your Slob-ass killin snoops |
In the street with me and he won’t |
Last a second, come to checkin' all you slobs with the quickness |
Dumpin' with the Tec you close you’re eyes and try you wish this |
This was a dream and maybe one day you’ll wake up |
But you ran upon the wrong Franklin Crip and got bucked |
Right back in your muthafuckin' place |
Big Freeze got the nine in your muthafuckin' face |
And just to let you know I ain’t no muthafuckin' ho |
Hot feeling full of lead and leave your body on the floor |
It’s BK Crippin' all the time when I ride Nationwide |
East Side Franklin Crippin', so you Slobs better hide |
And if you don’t when I see you I’ma kill you |
You can bet your bottom dollar fool I’ll peel you |
This ain’t no poser but I be bang Crabs to pieces |
Wonderful one to his head and deceased him |
Point blank range it was strange the way it happened |
East Side Swans pulled up and started cappin' |
Crabs been runnin' and duckin' and try to get the fuck away, but it’s too late |
Cause I popped hI’m with the H.K. |
pop |
Miggety gun between the Crabs with me strap with me Nine |
Buck buck buck buck buck E-Ricket always die |
Me kick the rasta shit hI’m make me mad I get with him |
Me comin' from South Central ??? |
me say trick |
Bickin it kickin it and stoppin it, pissin' and jackin' a punkin' the Crab dude |
Me love to smokin' chronic, drink O.E. |
and act a fool |
Some Crab in me hood losin' life for some chip |
Me happy to Glock and got and show 'em for no pity |
Blood, me gangsta from me hood, me killin' never like a slut |
Or me can do the ?? |
because them snitch like a ?? |
I got the feelin' there’s anotha Slob killin' in my hood |
Niggas gettin' suited and booted up to no good |
Shootin' up everything and Tec-9 bail ringin' |
Showin' the punk-ass snoops how we gangbangin' |
Psycho assassin I laugh when I stick 'em |
Then I bury hI’m alive cause the fool wasn’t Crippin' |
I got a double barrel sawed-off, point it at the hostage |
Had your mama ransom and still shock the bitch |
You better ask somebody about Six Pacc |
Original Gangsta well known to peel a cap |
3 o' clock in the morning the «F» Gang creepin' |
To see if we can catch another Slob slippin |
C-rag hangin' off the Gauge as I blast fool until you know this is Crip |
And you don’t have to ask |
Evil side never die, fool it’s no mistery |
Crabs runnin' the ocean I’m from the C |
Now as I tight’n up my flags, my bhakis sag low |
Banged up for Inglewood, yeah 104 |
'bout to pull a jack in my bucket, nigga Pumpkin |
Saw the first rip, who slipped, put some' in his chest |
Set trippin' I’mma bust on his ass quick |
210 pounds lettin' of 50 rounds |
Gunnin 'em down for the homies that’s B.I.P |
It’s called payback I stay strapped, I packs a Mac-1 |
Brazy like Rambo I’m lettin' of ammo with my 9, 16 shot |
Fuck all these Crabs lies in the studio |
Tryin' to act like they hard |
But you done pushed me to my limit like a muthafuckin credit card |
Wide up so fired up the motherfuckin' strap |
Green eyes got something off his chest ready to be expressed |
Fuck all ya’ll Crabs, ya’ll niggas ain’t shit |
And you will never catch Green Eyez mackin' to a Crab bitch |
Slob-ass niggas C’s up what that Crip like |
Niggas don’t understand that I’m a C, a Crip 4 life |
Slob-ass fools in my city nigga fear me |
It’s the A to the D.C. rip fuck the B |
Atlantic Drive Crippin' is where I’m from |
If you can tell |
Illiterate ass Slob niggas know that they can’t spell |
Nigga this is Slob killa, I spell it out |
For you S.L.O.B.K. |
I double L.A. Crip nigga |
South Side Atlantic Drive makin' Slob panic |
Dippin' in a G |
With that muthafuckin' automatic strap out the window, pop pop now it’s on |
A bitch made Slob nigga caught two in their dome |
On the Crens with they burgundy pants caught slippin' |
While I’m dippin' to the other side set trippin' |
Crippin' to the fullest, fuck Slob nigga this is Crip |
I kill a Slob nigga and I smoke a Slob bitch |
Now bick back and relax as I kick the facts about you |
Muthafuckin' scary-ass Crabs that just be Bangin On Wax |
True facts and not fiction |
And if you wanna buy ?? |
gimme your money nigga steady dippin' |
You motherfuckin' right that’s how the gangsta go and do it |
Sin Joke come to stretch you to stretch you, but that Ricket blew it |
Mark-ass Crabs droppin shit like a Sega |
I called up G-Pops and told hI’m my nigga need the Desert Eagle |
Blood I think some shit finna jump |
So tell Dogg to bring the nine millimeter and the pistol grip pump |
Yeah, that should handle this |
A Bounty Hunter from Watts, so I’m forcin' niggas scandelous |
And I’m down for whatever |
I got the extra long clip hangin' out my motherfuckin' 'Retta |
Gettin' ready for a C. K |
Here comes some guy from that Ricket nigga with no further delay |
Load up the guns cause now you fuckin' with a killa trigga cop |
Bust some shots at you Slob-ass niggas talkin' shit |
You’s a bitch and I’ll put that on my momma |
If I catch you in these streets — I’ma leave your ass in trauma |
This shock well and don’t bail on T.R.O. |
double L |
Cause dead rag gettin' toe tagged from hot shells |
Ride throught my hood in that motherfuckin' red |
I put my gun to your head and leave you dead enough said |
Now as I hear this on line if you really gon' blast |
I got a flea on my dick, for puttin' in it their dogs ass |
«Damn Blood that Ricket nigga was wild» |
I call myself a dog say fuck hI’m doggystyle uh uh |
Smooth sellin' on a gay-ass snoop |
The main bitch at my house straight smokin' a loop |
K.P. |
to the motherfuckin' H |
Fuck all Slob this the muthafuckin' K |
Gimme the strap goddamn so I can bust on this Crab |
That bitch AWOL |
Tryin' to bang with a? |
shank? |
Well, we’ll rush you niggas on the count of 4 |
And all that Crab shit what is you bangin' for |
Fuck talkin' with you niggas, fuck eatin with you niggas |
Fuck rappin' with you niggas I don’t believe you niggas |
It don’t stop, I slip in my clip and set trip |
It’s the Dogg and Hawksta, Weirdos and Mafias |
Mafia/Weirdos it really don’t matter |
I grab my nine and make it rat-a-tat-tatter |
Now we be rollin' in my muthafuckin' G- ride |
It’s me Lil' Hawk and the Dogg showin' these Crabs what that «B» like |
Weirdo gangsta’s and the 10 and tha 4 |
Fuck all Crabs in the studio |
Biiatch |
Tricks in this basket |
Busta-ass Crab-ass niggas |