Celly Cel
H.I. Double L.
[Verse 1]

Hey ah, which way should I steer ah
The beat keeps knockin down my rearview mirror
Pervin like a mothaf**ka swervin
Hope I don't scrub in my '95 Suburban
To go throughout the community squattin on gold tippy toes
Peep, breathin on Indian cigarette-Ganish Bidi posin n***as tweak
Quick fast in a hurry, don't worry, 40 vision ain't blurry
Shorty hit the freeways right up the ways, clownin like that n***a Joe Torry

[Celly Cel]
Well, what do you know, it's siggity Cel
That funky n***aro, that funky n***a doe
Kickin in doors, you better grab ya ho
I see ya choosin in the late night
Creepin wit my n***a B-Legit and 40 Water, ah sh*t

We're here-we're there-we're everywhere
Highly intox-icated but we don't care

I'm from the H.I.L.L. the place where my n***as bail
A Mac muthaf**kin 12 will send your a** straight to hell
A tick, a tock, they shook the spot
They say them crazy muthaf**kas pulled out a chop
I watch them muthaf**kas run
I do this sh*t for fun
You n***as know you can't get none

I'm from the V.A.L.L.E.J.O
H.I. Double L. side, doe
Spittin straight game is all a n***a know and ahh
And they be like... (there they go)
H.I. Double L. side, doe
Spittin straight game is all a n***a know and ahh
And they be like... (there they go)

[Verse 2]

I tell a b*t*h what the f**k you mean where I've been
And so what I smells like pu**y and gin
I had money to make
B*t*hes to break
And if the sh*t was out of line I had lives to take
I told you from the gate that I'm a mobster
Sippin DP, eatin lobster
Don't get it confused, you won't get abused
As long as you makin' me them revenues
[Celly Cel]
That miggity mack, that diggity dang and that n***ity nut
Jump in the back of my cut with a tramp sl*t and hit the guts
Ain't got no love for 'em, all I love to do is d**k 'em
Pa** 'em to the extra mannish n***a, 40 water, sic 'em

If I was Popeye I woulda told Bluto
'You could kiss my big black royal'
I'm not funkin' over Olive Oyl
Last night I had a superbad in my room
She sucked me 'til my d**k shriveled up like a prune
Well pa** the hussy to the left hand side
So I can bend her over, hit it from the back, and let her ride
You know a Sick Wid It hog gotta put the shake down
Shoot her to the left, n***a, hit me with that breakdown


[Verse 3]

Beefeater, Tanqueray, Sapphire, Bombay
Either that or a punch bowl full of Hurricane Ethel
That'll last a n***a dang near all day
Smokin' herb, we gets perved, cop a squat
Let's hang out at the old Cola spot
N***a, I'm a Looie, smokes damn near Q
So can I get a Twomp on my pager bill
You been blowin' me up
I know you know the code
31 double 07 dash 9 eleven

High steppin'
Ya blankin off the blanks
Cuz I'm a "Rock star"
Here go dove rock, n***a, let me use your f**kin car
All the way through
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday
Threw up money tore up a** bootch you call the po po on me
Told 'em I was sideways doin about a buck 50 in Solano County
Sheriffs pull my a** over, and book me, caught me with a gun
And a bunch of Alizé bottles and they was askin me where I'm from
And I said...B*T*H!