Lyrics No Peace - South Central Cartel, Ice T, Powerlord Jel

No Peace

Hanging on the back streets, chilling with the OG’s
S-C to the grave and it’s on for the O-Z
Young brothers want to run up, better put your guns up
Might just get your punk ass gunned up
Cartel ain’t tripping, guys never slipping
When all the B. G's start lifting
Where you from fool, it’s the same gang
Buck, buck from the Nines, everyday it’s the same thang
Raised up on the South Central blocks
No P-E-A-C-E from another Glock
As I move from the M-U-R-D-er Squad
Freeze up, G’s up, gangstas living hard
Young Prod don’t slow down the old fashioned hold down
Roadies and moonkies so why should I stop now
Right now I’m on top and don’t want to fall
No peace on my streets so that makes it hard
I keep my Glock-Glock cocked, as I bail down yo' block, buck
Seventeen shots, booya, 187 dropped death row fool on the solo
Khakis on yayo, where you from, Hav?
— South Central
Trizip the rizip cause I
G-slide as rewind, the westside you die
No peace as I clump, run punk, it’s a smoke
G’z rule the street, really though, I’m a loc
As a Crip to a Blood and a Blood to a Crip
Get your ass straight ripped by the squad if you set trip, fool
I’ve been weighed down for a long time
Long crime, long ends, long cash, you talking 'bout mine
Kid, you did a bid and you came home cock deep
You’re twenty-three baby boy, you’re talking bout OG
Huh, I’m thirty-four, I used Gats to score
Gag and tying hoe’s in the backs of jewelry stores
G-ride I’m talking 'bout two thugs you knew
One to work and one to ride on to the crew
But nowadays brothas want to flip the centric
It ain’t even Bloods, it’s straight Crips killing Crips
Lord Jel ain’t never gonna cease
'Cause I get my peace like shooting from the back seat
When I’m in my ride, I’m coming out to come and get you chumps
Powerlords packing 50 rounds for you little punks
When it’s on, you’ll hear my crew coming through
Won’t be in red, no a brother that’s wearing blue
'Cause I just flex and break necks
'Cause my sets all Mexican so don’t forget
They don’t want no peace for a brotha
The brothers in the streets don’t want no peace
They don’t want no peace for a brotha
The brothers in the streets don’t want no peace
Smoking up on the bong, I took my time trying not to be a felon
Trying to keep my cool like an O. G, but fools yelling
Oh what should I do
Cause it’s a buster in the crowd talking bad about my whole crew
I’m ready to do a walk-by at my own show
All these fools in the audience cause they don’t know
How to act and enjoy they 'self
So let them pigs come along and destroy the set
Snob down the block, I got to carry a Nine
Cause niggas that want no peace, they want to jack for mine
But I’m a G like this song
So I take a Gangster hit from the bong
And parlay
They don’t want no peace so I’ma pack a piece
Rolling way deep in the cut on the back streets
Mobbing with my homies, everybody’s strapped
Cause there’s always a fool trying peel ya cap
But in Oakland, they ain’t really tripping on the Blue or the Red
Just get caught slipping, catch two to the head
They don’t want peace, man they want funk
So let it jump, young punk, you can pop the trunk
And let freedom reign like it should be
Twenty years in the pen, it’s all good G
Now what I’m saying is you don’t have to fade your brother
Be a G and stop going out like it suckers
It’s that bitch Lichelle, B-O to the double Dollar Sign
They don’t want no peace at the G, only dollar minds
A 9 mm, then again I’ll be packing all sorts of clips
Roll up and shoot ya on your own front porch and trip
It’s unfortunate dig it the rules of survival
Look at the smoking for that sucker gets to be a rival
The psycho passing rocks, get my kill on, beef is still on
And what I think is that you picked the wrong ass chick for a Peace song
Get up outta Doge, if step into the Murder Squad for the '95
Bring it on face to face before I step out
I’m leaving a shout out to the organization
P-E-A-C-E, some kid done did slid down a razor blade
And landed in an alcohol river
Now that ass is a trouble, I sell a lie
With a trigger, cliques to get bitches a new day and new way
Some other mother- with the new say
The lesser rising brothers got no kind of thing
Forget running our hoods, our hoods are running fucking banks
It’s stolen tanks, part rolling think that thing that stank
Looking away, you think we ain’t
This is a killer Cali rally in the east coast connection
Invasion taking over this nation
This stolen country had better get real
Before our kids start practicing drive-bys on big wheels
The brothers in the street don’t want no (Peace)
They don’t want no peace for a brotha
The brothers in the street don’t want no (Peace)
They don’t want no peace
They don’t want no peace
They don’t want no peace, no peace, no peace…