| (Hurry, hurry, step right up
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| And see the side show in town
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| For only 50 cents)
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| Wait, wait, cut this shit, man
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| This ain’t no muthafuckin' side show
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| Rich, kick the side show
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| (*DJ Daryl cuts up*)
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| (Make it funky)
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| It’s a Saturday night, my girl’s actin' real shitty
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| Due to the fact I just left Campbell City
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| Straight lace Zeniths and vogues all on point
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| On my way to the Town to get a doja joint
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| Pushed it to the 7 to get some dank
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| Hit the liquor store to cold get drank
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| Now I got my doja, sippin' on Nitro
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| Peace playboy, I’m on my way to the side show
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| Down Bancroft, to the light
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| Let me warm it up, I hit a donut tight
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| There’s a Chevy on my side, windows straight tinted
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| I think he got hype when he saw me spin it
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| I’m up outta there, sideways to the next life
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| Vogues kinda smokin' but Zeniths still tight
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| I’m at the side show, parlayin' and playin'
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| Music on hit, head straight swayin'
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| To the sounds of the 415 and the Locster
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| Girlie on the corner on jock, so I approached her
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| Spoke real smooth and said, «Hey, what’s happenin'?»
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| She said, «Dubble-R, is that you rappin'?»
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| I said, «Ah nah, baby, that ain’t me
|
| You listen to the sounds of the L-o-c
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| The same clique, the 415, we make paper
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| But back up, bitch, I can see you got the vapors»
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| A lazy, towed up, tore down ho
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| She’s lookin' for some dick at the side show
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| You know what I’m sayin?
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| In Oakland, California, every Saturday night, brothers be ridin'
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| Straight lace Zeniths, rag tops, buckets, high performance
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| We really don’t be trippin', you know what I’m sayin?
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| But now it’s like this
|
| Police came through, but now they’re gone
|
| In other words, the side show’s on
|
| Troy’s in a Maxima straight up lit
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| Short’s comin' through in a Benz with a kit
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| Oakland’s movin' somethin', and that’s real
|
| Bruce from the Deuce comin' through in a 'Ville
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| This is a side show, boy, we don’t fake it
|
| Police come through on a fluke and try to break it
|
| Up like that with a riot hat
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| You’re gonna need more than a billy club and a gat
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| To stop the side show, officer, just think
|
| Maybe you should come and hit the spot with a tank
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| 'Cause the brothers from the O are gonna keep on ridin'
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| Yo can hit a tight one, straight sidin'
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| See, we ain’t really trippin' off jail or the tickets
|
| A brother wants to post, make mail and kick it
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| Now listen, this is the code to the show
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| For the people out there who just don’t know
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| If your shit is hella clean, then bring it
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| If it’s high performance, then swing it
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| If it’s a motorcycle, you better serve it
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| And if you get a ticket, you better deserve it
|
| As long as you can say, «Man, I let 'em know»
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| Then peace, you did it at the side show
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| It’s a everyday thing
|
| Every Saturday night brothers be tearin' up cars
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| Brothers be comin' through swingin' 'em
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| I don’t know what’s goin' on, I’m juiced
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| I’m in the Town, I strikes through
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| I see bitches, corner to corner, block to block
|
| You know, basically it’s just (funky)
|
| Corner to corner, block to block
|
| Flock Zeuses and EV’s that knock
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| Gold-diggin' bitches in the City of O
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| Lookin' for a nigga with a cash flow
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| That’s the type of shit that gets 'em off
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| Material shit, at the side show, boss
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| Brothers get started, and man, don’t quit
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| Kiki’s on a ninja about to tear up shit
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| It’s about 2 o’clock and the show’s still goin'
|
| Bitches all at the gas station hoein'
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| A nigga like me never ever spends cash on hoes
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| Nah, I need a new set of vogues
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| Candy paint will make a bitch peep
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| But she’ll never get a muthafuckin' dime out of me
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| Peace to everybody in the O that I know
|
| Dubble-R get with you at the side show
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| Believe that
|
| 'Cause it’s real
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| This one goes out to my DJ Daryl-Ski
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| My homeboy L-o-c
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| And of course the Jigga, the Jed |