| Introducin' the Westside Strangler, bangin' with the fixtures
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| Mashin in this hot Coupe De Ville with blue twisters
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| I just got it waxed, now I’m true without a doubt
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| Dippin down Alondra on my way to the south
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| The big homie way better g, a whole ounce
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| He said it wasn’t hot, I made him watch the back-bounce
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| Ah, back in traffic, feelin like the last pimp
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| Hit the three-wheel, made a left on Kemp
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| I dropped that my old crib just to see it’s all good
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| The little homies moved in the spot with Lil' Wood
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| See, niggas this way don’t give a damn about you hoes
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| We find real estate in the midst of robbin yo’s
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| With Benzis and trucks, plenty cavi for the clucks
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| Keep a eye on who’s who and muthafuck what’s what
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| For all gees who got it poppin in they hood for the moment
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| It’s the gangsta King T, show me love loc, cause I’ma speak on it
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| Ah, that’s that G shit (mobbin' through your hood)
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| Move on gangstas, move on
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| Move on gangstas, move on
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| Ah, that’s that G shit (mobbin' through your hood)
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| Groove on hustlers, groove on
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| Groove on hustlers, groove on
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| Man, the night comes and a gangsta’s intuition
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| I hops in my 'burban, limited edition
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| I’m lookin for a Lakewood hoe, that’s my mission
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| I’m through with fuckin Hawthorne tramps, they be snitchin
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| What will it be, Pepper’s or that spot Paradise?
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| They keep a flock of girls but you gotta dress nice
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| Suckers, I’m a gee, I got some clocks I ain’t touched
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| Feathered Borsalinos with Armani in my clutch
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| Nigga what, raised by ballers, I’m legit
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| And if you don’t believe, ask Freeway Rick
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| You don’t believe Rick, well ask my homie Big Jess
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| Or his brother Big Droop, OG’s, nothin less
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| It’s many niggas drinkin that gangsta juice
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| But I done seen none of y’all when it was time to truce
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| And I was at Luda’s Park squashin' beef with opponents
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| While your ass was at your mansion eatin pussy punk, speak on it
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| Ah, that’s that G shit (mobbin' through your hood)
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| Move on gangstas, move on
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| Move on gangstas, move on
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| Ah, that’s that G shit (mobbin' through your hood)
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| Groove on hustlers, groove on
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| Groove on hustlers, groove on
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| These busters better recognize what’s comin
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| Dancin on D’s with the Alpine humpin
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| Every since the child knew the ways to live foul
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| Now I bust rhymes like a cool criminal
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| Alcoholic chronic-smokin niggas know the deal
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| Gun-totin, mouth-tapin niggas know I’m real
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| I represent the West to the fullest extent
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| A Southern California Hub City resident
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| Yes yes y’all, it’s not a secret no more
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| I got lyrics out the ass and they all hardcore
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| Like that, comin with that West Coast strap
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| Guaranteed to civilize a nigga talkin smack
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| What you wanna do us, do your dance like you do it
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| This one’s for my people up in Texas, watch em screw it
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| Tight conversation hits the speakers for the moment
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| But if your ass can’t comprehend fool, speak on it
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| Ah, that’s that G shit (mobbin' through your hood)
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| Move on gangstas, move on
|
| Move on gangstas, move on
|
| Ah, that’s that G shit (mobbin' through your hood)
|
| Groove on hustlers, groove on
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| Groove on hustlers, groove on |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Speak On It, artist - Young MayLay. Album song San Andreas Original Mixtape, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп