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