Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crenshaw/80s and Cocaine, artist - The Game. Date of issue: 21.01.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Crenshaw/80s and Cocaine |
| You can catch me rollin' down Crenshaw, Crenshaw |
| Is that a motherfuckin' Impala? |
| Bitch yeah |
| Magazine on my lap, I’m rollin' indo Indo |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs |
| Parked at the light, give a fuck about a bitch nigga |
| Only nigga worth six figures that still click triggers |
| On my way to L-A-X, fuck the freeway |
| Riding through South Central in the 'Wood like I should |
| But I’m a Compton nigga, west side monster nigga |
| You should know by now, I fuck with all kinds of niggas |
| Call Big-U and we going to see about that vagina in you |
| You don’t bang huh? |
| That’s that out of town in you |
| My niggas eat late night, Mel’s Diner menu |
| You a shooter? |
| Better have that North Carolina in you |
| I had wolves at all kinds of venues |
| Dub’s show I let the snub show, shall I continue? |
| Fuckin' niggas up like it’s '05 |
| Like Dre just listened to my whole demo and cosigned |
| Talkin' out your neck, get you buried in no time |
| I heard you niggas looking for me, Blood |
| You can catch me rollin' down Crenshaw, Crenshaw |
| Is that a motherfuckin' Impala? |
| Bitch yeah |
| Magazine on my lap, I’m rollin' indo Indo |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs |
| Nip be where the Crips be, Skeme be where the bloods be |
| Nigga, I’m with the shit, give a fuck if niggas cuz me |
| Say the wrong things wrong time, get a blood beef |
| Same color rag, still layin' where the subs be |
| Naw fuck that nigga |
| I’ll have a prostitute open the trunk and cut that nigga |
| I’ll have a couple crooked cops come and touch that nigga |
| Then get a bully in the pen to come and fuck that nigga |
| Life is crazy, yeah my life is crazy |
| Don’t let Calabasas fool you, I’ll kill you, baby |
| Bury you in my backyard, shit I’m sittin' on five acres |
| You wanna go to war? |
| I got the paper |
| Nigga wanna fade? |
| I got the taper |
| Nigga want to shoot? |
| I got the laser |
| Any bitch that want to fuck, I got a tape it |
| And I don’t put no tints on my whip |
| One strap, full clip nigga! |
| You can catch me rollin' down Crenshaw, Crenshaw |
| Is that a motherfuckin' Impala? |
| Bitch yeah |
| Magazine on my lap, I’m rollin' indo Indo |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window |
| Gang signs |
| Part 2: 80's and Cocaine |
| Bullets coming through the windows and the walls |
| That’s on the set, all my niggas on call |
| Don’t pray for me, pray for them niggas |
| Menace to society, I’m like Lorenz nigga |
| I want the rims nigga, and your gold chain |
| Don’t blame me, blame 80s and cocaine |
| I want the rims nigga, and your gold chain |
| Don’t blame me, blame 80s and cocaine |
| Ay yo I wake up, put on chronic like bitches makeup |
| Kush like Nicki and Meek, it’s hard to breakup |
| .38 tucked, take a piss and eat my breakfast |
| Six bitches at my kitchen table ass naked |
| I got more bitches than Hugh Heff, nigga I’m reckless |
| Iced out Playboy pendant hangin' from my necklace |
| Used to take a brick, chop that bitch up in sections |
| Pack it in the car like its Mexican no flexin' |
| It’s that whip work, chop that, sell it out, we cop that |
| On Wimbleton and Brazil in my Impala with the top back |
| Where my nigga Top at? |
| Remember them days before you |
| And Rock brought Watts back? |
| We was in Stevenson |
| Village in front your crib, nigga, leanin' like a top hat |
| Ordering Tommy burgers with everything, cop back |
| My Glock fat nina Ross Akon black |
| Bullets pop up out of nowhere like State Farm |
| BLAT! |