Lyrics Aftermath - Kokane

Aftermath

Alright players, Alright Gs
Hustlers, pimps, macks, real niggaz and all that
The Time has come, and what a time to drop real gangster poetry on that ass
Ha ha, yeah, comin' at you from the under world, The Aftermath!
A group of underground launtics brought together on mission of destruction
So all you bitches and whores beware, for what lurks be on in the bucklers
Give too meanin' into the words is totally insane
187Um, my motherfuckin' murderous homicidal skills for you suckers
Stay down to get that ass clown
Km.G, the motherfuckin' undertaker, the bitch breaker
So whores if you didn’t know, now you do
So that’s just the first clue from a nigga on a mission
You see, Chronic is way of life, Gs
So spray a peace to mothers and get right the fuck out
Awww yeah, what dopeless comes to a man named Kokane
Influential in amount, believin' in a certain theory
That all players must come correct, other than it he gets no respect
You see, it’s all about makin' yours in this life time
So if that said, I would like to duce one more player in this game
A nigga named Shank, A.K.A.
the Kane
A nigga known for breakin' the suckers off
So y’all believin' in the Theory of Elevation
Reason bein, I got the fly… fly… shit for that ass
So here it is players, aww yeah, bitches too
The fly shit for you
So tune in 'til it get faded with The Aftermath, niggaz
Funk them up
Funk them up, Funk them up, from the Westcoast
Funk them up, Funk them up, Funk them up
Funk them up, Funk them up, from the Eastcoast
Funk them up, Funk them up, Funk them up
Well, alright
Awww, comin' through the motherfuckin' side door
Checkin' all the niggaz, and cluckin' all the whores
Before you jump up, and get rowdy like the Yawny
You better ask your bitch if she knows me «ooooohhhhh»
Cause I got two pounds of bakings on a two pounds of coke
I brought a bitch some Bamby, some papers, so I can smoke
So you can call them when you want to, baby
Yah, right, because I’ve just told you homie the same two nights ago
Or should I say four scores ago
So bow wow, wow, wow, yippi yay, yippi yo, whore
Because to play you is my only wish
Yo, so pass me the skin so I can rush it like Emmitt Smith
And then I have to come boil that ass, toil that ass
Bump that ass and straight funk that ass
I guess you motherfuckers get the clue «what up?
«Soda for the cut up, chuckies to hop to «yeah»
I maybe in your Coupé, or Jeep or your Wagon
I maybe makin' dollars but I’m not braggin'
I give my props to my niggaz in the Penthouse, see
For tryin' to come up gettin' caught up in the system G
It’s like a game, never fit to win
So I’ll see you when you get out if not when I get in «Well, alright»
Cause I’m not the Rodney King Part Two
So I’m a smoke one for me and smoke a gang for you, yeah
Then you’re makin' a nigga, aww shit, the whore gigolo flow
Quick so… what’s the word?
I’ve just set a to the whores with the Deuce on the corner
The green eyed hooker with the juice and the totters
The true black macadamian in Funk pole
Hit the whores, get quick to fade Al Capone
Let me take my hair off
And peep my MC Donalds, six Magazines freak
All the nymphos I’m a pussy fiend
Ooh, Mister Mister, twister twister is what they call me
Then they bone me
Whores on my Diznick, I’m livin' a revelation
I’m kickin' the real shit, fuck the nigga’s reputation «fuck it»
Go out to through dome, what up?, I’ll straight fuck you
Or told my nigga shit, .45 to buck you
Or I’m a trip and bring chaos at it
Or my nigga Mack fuckin' Re-up to Pimp Clinic
So, I’m a ask you a question «what up Loc'?
«Do you wanna die for me?
«yeah»
Or do you wanna die for my Kokane at 17−5 a key?
Awww yeah, I said leanin' on my toners when I’m bailin'
Through the crooked streets deep in Cali' where I’m dwellin'
Sellin' mobile dopes cause I gotta make a dollar
Finna drop the top of my Rag-Top-Trey Impala
I’m jerkin' a local nigga out the do it and sharin' dirt
Got two whores on the corner and they finna put in work
Now the pimps, though I ships my pimp
And on the down low, too many whores’ll get a nigga in some trouble
And so I’m… bumped the three wheel motion
Hit the corner quick, fiendin' like the Chronic stick
And get higher than a motherfucker
I got a beap on the sky pager, trick ass bitch
Put the trick on time so it’s off to the next day
Yeah, picked up my mobile phone, to make a booty call
Creepin' down Crenshaw, watchin' out for the law «yeah, the motherfuckers»
Cause the police quick to put the nigga on the side of the curb
And take a choke of burb G
And lease a nigga like showy
But I ain’t want them up, I got the dope from the street motherfuckers
Aww yeah, The Aftermath
Journey through this Aftermath
Kokane is here
Here goes 'Kane, check this out
Now I’m comin' around… comin' around.
Comin' around the fuckin' mountain
Wettin' niggaz up like a fuckin' fountain
So don’t call me, don’t get attached
Cause some of you niggas' ass more faker than Wrazzaler Match
Add the preservatives on official flavors
Bakin' video sope, said I say a fuckin' savior
Give your R&B, house Music, I’ll say hell no
Beatin' Donnie Simpson where I be funkin' on the show
Who gives the funk shit like that?
you know it’s We
Cause G shit came from the concrete
So take a seat in the back jack, known I gots to strap
No longer will be a white motherfuckin' dictatin' hard as real rap
You’re a motherfuckin' hypocrites
Bring your ass as used to promote that every metal shit
To the K to the O to the K to the A, to that’s N-E we flowwww
My name is Kokane, never askin' the reason I ball
So Bon Voyage I gots the stack
And I’m out swords, nigga, but I’ll be back
Funkin' you