| I be that cold crest creeper, stompin’and rompin'
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| Puttin’the crest on the map, like NWA did Compton
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| Got my finger on the trigger, dont make me pull it and bail
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| Plus I’m ski masked down, all you see is bullets and shells
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| From that HK, they say Dre is slightly crazy
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| But aint nothin’but the way them crestside streets raised me
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| I’m shady, all my game make you trust me Players love me, haters dodge and duck me They hidin’while I’m ridin, Crestsidin’through the fog
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| I’m a double R hog, doin’dirt with my dogs
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| Crest gorilla makin’scrilla, boy I gets G’s
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| Put more holes in a nigga than they put in Swiss cheese
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| Now check credential, these niggas be killa status
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| Pack a tech, tote a tommy, you know I brandish
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| Some dont understand, niggas I hog about my scrillions
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| Pill young knuckle heads, stoppin by my building
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| Built in the game, foundated since '74
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| Its that Mark Ave nigga… You know
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| Get your millimeter, these niggas round here be heated
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| And if you need it, eat it up when I feed it So giddy up, get game, if you aint knowin’that it’ll happen
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| Thats that real shit… fuck all that rappin'
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| So go on and ask your folks
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| 'Cause these crest niggas aint no joke
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| Pussy aint the prize so you can miss me with that bullshit
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| Young hog through the hallways, strapped down with them full clips
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| Catch 'em on surveilance, a murder thats how I read it So potna if you saw it, play like you aint seen it
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| I’m the cleanest in this murder shit, cuddie who you with?
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| Represent that Sawyer all star killa click
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| Wave both hands and watch me yoked in the stands
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| This them creepers coward, so could you understand
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| Faulty information keep on gettin’sold to the FBI
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| So what you gon’do? |
| big baller dont cry
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| Everybody in this world cant get by We love to be high, so pop yo collar, let it go
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| 'Cause this crest creep shit is gettin’sold like blow
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| Look it, at who just crept up out the bushes
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| Without warning, swarming in black garments
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| Performing like an OG, crest vet, oh yes its Naked
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| But I’m forced to wear clothes, because its cold on the North Pole
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| This 4−4 got the enemy behind the line
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| 'Cause once they cross it, aww shit, another violent crime
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| Has been committed in the itty bitty city called Vallejo
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| All hell breaks loose when you fuck with lou
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| Me and my people 'cause we deep in this shit
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| Brought heat to this shit, just in case a hater wanna trip
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| Off the fact that the country club is in the building
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| Hit the ceiling with your 3 C’s if ya feeling
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| Where I’m coming from, now who in the fuck you running from
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| Them cuddie top dogs are on there way and they coming dumb
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| Hoes they, hoes they love me
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| 'Cause I’m the U-N-D-A-D-O double G Crestsidin', hittin’switches, let me drop you a line
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| If you ridin’then you bitches better be on time
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| You fucking with my pleasures now
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| In L.A., fuck Da Unda Dogg wont let you down
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| So let me bust a nut, we creepin', so hurry up get yo ass in this telly
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| No time for speakin', remove your clothes and lay on your belly
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| I got that Watts shit, mixed with that Crestside twist
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| Block shit, bitches love to fuck with this
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| Reek Daddy the muthafuckin’instigator
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| Mr. get this shit started right now, fuck later
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| From the Crest to the muthafuckin’Midwest, Reckless
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| 15 cuddies on a dead nigga chest
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| Bitch have you ever rolled with a rider?
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| Bouncin’in the low hollerin’out Crestsider!
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| Ripped, dont even trip, its gon’be some more shit
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| I got the big clip, filled up with hollow tips
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| Cold Crest creeper and I always keep my cannon on me Dont forget the dope 'cause I’m a lay you where you standin’homie
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| Hoe if you know me, you know what I’m about
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| Act like a snake bit my dick and suck the poison out
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| Cuddie I go way back, sippin’heem straight like chris mack
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| In the 'lac, yac up, aliens better back up Playa like OG bust
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| See there aint nothing like that ball hog soup, for country club hog nuts
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| Smash fools like Barlow, serve big game like tip toe
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| Might catch me mackin’in Chicago
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| Smokin’on some ???
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| Pimp shit, talkin’smooth, armani man, I’m out to conquer the globe
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| Might start off in Vegas, hookers bringin’more of those papers
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| Boss mackin’got me scuffin’my gators
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| Call me Luke Skywalker, the alien stalker
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| Cuddie, fuck ya friends, ya folks, even ya potna
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| Lil’soldier got a chopper plus he gone off one
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| And OG’s think the penitentiary is fun
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| So he’s bread to kill, and aint scared to die
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| Nuclear age titan up out the Crest side |