| Somebody running outside, yelling 187
|
| Somebody running outside, yelling 18
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| Somebody running outside, yelling 18
|
| Somebody running outside, yelling 18
|
| Somebody running outside, yelling 187
|
| Aye where the party at?
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| When the drug dealers and the fiends outside all day
|
| Where the party at?
|
| Uzis and grenades, we flocking handguns
|
| If you want it, you can come and get some
|
| If you got it, you can pay the ransom
|
| Where the party at?
|
| In the Bentley truck talking on my Nokia
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| I be selling out the Nokia
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| Got twins if you know Tia, then you know Kia
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| Balling bitches ride Benz’s, nigga, no gears
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| On my way to the lip, bumping on a lid
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| With a bitch that look like Pia Mia, nigga you should see her
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| Head like Sia, diamonds in her ear
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| Sipping brandy, plus the money long like Nia
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| And I feel like that went over your head
|
| And I don’t think you understood what I said
|
| See Brandy was Nia Long’s name in «Boyz n the Hood»
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| Translation: dope boy in the hood
|
| Get the packages out, the fiends is running the Rams is back
|
| The Rams still go, the niggas getting jacked
|
| The cops is circling, niggas is murdering
|
| Dead bodies everywhere, that’s just Compton nigga
|
| Somebody running outside, yelling 187
|
| Aye, where the party at?
|
| When the drug dealers and the fiends outside all day
|
| Where the party at?
|
| Uzis and grenades, we flocking handguns
|
| If you want it, you can come and get some
|
| If you got it, you can pay the ransom
|
| Where the party at?
|
| Riding with a G bitch, smoking on a G stick
|
| In a G wagon, I’m always on some G shit
|
| Used to be in G rides, bumping Warren G shit
|
| Used to be in G5s, now I’m in the G6
|
| Used to be in GRs, now I’m with some G-Stars
|
| Couple G’s in every pocket, sitting where the G’s are
|
| Used to be in UG Village with my G ma
|
| Hand on the Jesus, RIP to my G-Pa
|
| See life is up and down like a seesaw
|
| And everybody working tryna get they RiRi off
|
| You got pregnant teens and absent fathers
|
| Outta town niggas they clapped regardless
|
| It’s a trap for the young
|
| If you ever answer wrong when they ask where you from
|
| And niggas gotta watch them colors
|
| They say banging played 'til they get they bodies verified by their mothers
|
| Somebody running outside, yelling 187
|
| Aye, where the party at?
|
| When the drug dealers and the fiends outside all day
|
| Where the party at?
|
| Uzis and grenades, we flocking handguns
|
| If you want it, you can come and get some
|
| If you got it, you can pay the ransom
|
| Where the party at? |