A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Spice 1

"Major Pain & Bossalini"

Verse 1-(C-BO)

We got the warehouse packed from Lamborginis to Lacs
Peruvian flake powder, than metro rap
Got keys on knees wit g's out of state
Flippin' more yay than IHOP flip pancakes
I'm a boss balla now, shot calla now
Rose's Bentley's n*gga f*ck the Impala now
An these b*tches be comin by the dozens
True ballaz never love 'em, f*ckin aunties an cousins
Got a have a ??? humble, sticky green gumbo
Layin by the pool, hella full off gumbo
Rollin wit these g's, get R.I.P
By desert eagles to mini gages, to AR-15's
See I don't trust a soul on patrol when I roll
4-4 I hold cuz I gotta shake parole
You can stroll wit me, rock an roll wit me
But when the one times dip, c*ck, unload wit me
Cuz I'm a killa, nappy head n*gga, from out the valley, best strapped
Down, in Sac-Town, capitol of Killa Kali
Fool I comes heated, when needed, n*ggas retreat
When I blast pair of parabellums an a mini 14 when I smash


None of y'all n*ggas can't fade this
West coast n*ggas is the craziest
We got that MOB mentality
C-BO an S-P-I-C-E
None of y'all n*ggas can't fade this
West coast n*ggas is the craziest
We got that MOB mentality
Major Pain & Mr. Bossalini

Verse 2-(Spice 1)

(Straight G's)
Pullin our straps on n*ggas who thinkin they bodies is made outta
Wit a 5-0 caliber in my right hand, an a G-LOCK in my left palm
Black Bossalini, can't see me, wit a Lexy up on my wrist
Imagine this, a ballin' ass n*gga addicted to killin' sh*t
??? cross soldier mutha f*ckaz so n*gga don't f*ck wit me
I seen n*ggas that I done murdered up in my dreams, when I be asleep
Strapped an I thank God, n*gga chasin' me callin' me punk ass n*gga
Wakin' up wit the finga on triggas
Spittin' hollow tip slugs that goes to figgas
Wanna put down, my pistol, drink Cristal an sh*t
But n*ggas Uzi think he tellin me I'm gonna die if I sit
So I MOB wit the old skool, wit a shot of chromes out my window
Could it be the S-P-I-C-E wit a fifth of hin, yay an indo
Black Bossalini


Verse 3-(C-BO)

We puts it down like g's, swingin' vipers an vests
From Benz to Beamers an Lamborginis all on the set
An keep it crackin' from LA all the way back down to the Bay
I'm from the, valley, northern of Killa Kali, where g's lay
Gots to keep yo head up, you slip they drop, they leave you wet up
Blasted magnum taggin' the fool of the big block we hit him up
Eyes do or die, let 'em drip til they dry
Two killaz eye to eye, never duck when bullets fly
Keep it crackulatin, like Pearl Harbor when we spit
G's bump this sh*t, from ??? moves to the rip set
Trippin get split
Wit a magnum
Steady blastin' now I done seen murder eye to eye
But my kids hope that I'm steadily fastenin
Ain't no love for you that's down at the end of my barrel
When I multiply my cash, ridin' in my 4 barrel Camaro
I catch ya slippin', I'm slappin' my clip in, I'm puttin' it down
You been hit from slippin' an clockin' the grip in my town

(Chorus until end)

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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