Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crip Hop, artist - Tha Eastsidaz. Album song Duces 'N Trayz: The Old Fashioned Way, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.07.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Orchard
Song language: English
Crip Hop |
I’m tired of that punk shit |
Where niggas claim to done, where they from and who run shit |
I bang it to the tip-top |
Can’t stop, won’t stop, droppin gangbang hit rocks |
To the last drip-drop |
To the, tick tock to the blocks niggas rip Glocks |
I’m knowin that this shit hot |
This your first introduction to this motherfuckin crip hop |
It’s time to research the documents and pull some files |
And put it down with this gangsta style |
Cause I be seein niggas bein more aggressive now |
After peace treaty meetings and the weapons down |
Sport Chucks 'member once it was Nikes and sandals |
To me it’s unlikely that you’re sheisty and skanless |
To manage this dramaticness I call my rep |
Every step stay on deck keepin bustaz in check |
Certified murder guide through the streets of death |
Where the sleep ya slip soon as ya weakness met |
From that real killer deal get ya steal and mash |
Niggas have done did when the steel’ll blast |
Pockets filled with cash, fuck a Benz or Jag |
Lookin rough in a bucket, tuckin tens and Macs |
Dip roam, chip phones, flip (?) and clock |
Lick shots at the cops and control your block |
Keep it true with the crew from the old to new |
Ride providin 'em with guidance like your 'sposed to do |
Notice who, participatin all the activity |
That’s how we livin G, strictly killer tendencies |
So death to all my enemies |
And to the homies who rest in peace, a dub bag and Hennessy |
These weak niggas killin me |
With their proclivity to even proclimate that they as real as me |
Yeah nigga this crip, crip, crip |
Talk shit and I’mma bust yo' lip |
I’m gettin chips in the summer in a nine-six Hummer |
In D.C., fuckin with a breezy, easy |
See we see all we can see |
G.R. |
we can G, the Eastside family |
Coherent, cohesive, the co-pilot |
On this Eastside shit cuz, I’m co-signin |
On the East fuck peace we ridin violent |
Fuck where you been it’s all about where I been |
Sirens, gunshots, flood Glocks get popped |
When they all try to knock knock knock |
Who is it — visit the papers, the streets and the labels |
We got the hottest shit burnin on the turntables |
I won’t deny ya, I’m a straight rider |
And you don’t wanna fuck with me (yeh yeh) |
C. R. I. P. cause that’s all we G |
I’m from Rollin', 20, Gangsta Crip |
And I’mma tell you how the shit gon' C (gon' C) |
Now if I wasn’t rappin motherfucker y’all be starvin |
On my nuts without bucks like Marvin |
You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, look who starvin |
Written bill paid but still gotta be a slave |
Flip your own money, make your own proper |
Get yo' own heat, in case some niggas try to stop ya |
Be a boss hog about your money, float loc |
And trust no one, anybody can get smoke smoked |
Like a fat-ass blunt, of that bomb shit |
Have a babysitter set that ass up for chip Chips Ahoy! |
Niggas ran in with toys |
If you didn’t see 'em it’s the Eastside boys |
We be mobbin, like a motherfuckin cut |
Dirty dealt, lil' sag, lil' jay, lil' Chuck |
Two times, trey times on yo' motherfuckin ass |
Keep it O.G. |
nigga, rewind and pass |
It’s just another day and forty dozen, niggas strugglin |
Is you hustlin, do you relate to drug smugglin? |
If so, grab a nine and start to trip |
But remember, don’t let nobody punk you out yo' grip nigga |
Dogg Pound groovin, Eastside is the greatest |
And other guys can’t fade us |
Cause we’re the hardest in the town |
(?) and duces, never could be faded |
And all you suckers hate it |
Ohh crip is goin down |
And baby have no doubt, we gonna turn it out |
And that’s on Eastside L.B.C |
And we’re the best, we rockin coast to coast |
And we be blowin dope, and baby that’s the shit |
I’m talkin real shit to ya baby (that real crip shit) |
Duces 'n trayz bangin (that real crip shit) |
I’m talkin real shit to ya baby (that real crip shit) |
Duces 'n trayz, bangin bangin bangin bangin (THAT CRIP!) |
Oooh! |
Yeah, that Eastsider shit (Eastside Eastside) |
What y’all know about this here (what what wha-wha-what?) |
I’m (I'm) tal.king. |
crip shit (talk to me, talk to me) |
I’m. |
tal.king. |
crip shit |
I’m talking crip shit to you baby |
Eastside. |
ahh! |
Eastside, Eastside |
Ahh. |
Eastside, Eastside! |
Uhh, ahh. |
Eastside, Eastside |