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Spice 1

"Section 11350"

K-O-K-A-N-E, K-O-K-A-N-E and S-P-I-I-I
It's my n*gga yayo
Kokane b*tch, bloooow
Haha, yo partner Speezy
Speezy, weezy
You know
From the Bay to Pomona
Ya know Killa-fornia

My name is someone
Some people call you
Lethal one?
My name is the one
Some people call you once

[Verse 1]
I said a clip(clip) Glock(Glock)
A uzi automatic
Some static around the corner
n*ggas busting out the hoopty going, blooow n*gga
Upt' jumped the Chevy
And the n*gga straight belled up out
I said a 1 to the 2, a 2 to 2-3
Took a test to be a motherf*cking G
And all the real n*ggas came amazed at me
The natural born killa S-P-I-C-E
Got A.K stash for the spot in the benz
Watching all my enemies and all my friends
I keep a killa on the pay roll, they know
When its time to handle business n*gga lay-low
Hold the n*gga for ransom make his family pay
When the sh*t is all over dump 'em up in the bay
Spice 1, love Bossalini
Straight thug n*gga
I only f*ck with them criminals and drug dealers
I walk the earth for one reason
What's that
To regulate my chips, bust bars throughout four seasons
Easing down the road with my n*gga Kokane
n*ggas get slugs for the dome when they cross the game

Penal code section 11-3-5-0
In possession of cocaine
And the east bay gangsta (Spice 1)
We doing this
I represent Pomona from the O'
We doing it, doing it

[Verse 2]
I love that ghetto sh*t strictly ignorant sh*t
The kinda hanging out yo window
Eating chicken out yo caddy sh*t
We write the songs to make you kill fools
Smash suckers
Call me captain save a clucker
We not just rappers we dope dealers
Ignorant motherf*ckers straight cap peelers
It's like bass, how low can you go
Enough to move my yay' across San Di-yayo
Who the f*ck wanna step up and battle Kokane
Peruvian flows straight laced with dope man'e
I'm more doper than the C.I.A supplied Los Angeles
Uhh, b*tch can't handle this
I'm more realer than 10 n*ggas getting killed upon the daily
More realer than a pregnant woman
Coming to the crack spot with 4 babies
Man it's getting shady
Can't even drop my kids off to school without packing my .380 (three-eighty)
Broken house
Seperated spouses
Pitbulls up in the back
Same plastic upon the couches
n*ggas playing domino's
Smoking weed, shooting craps, slinging crack
Thinking about the days of way back

So step right up and get your cavi
Before the drug begins
Tell all your friends
We got them chickens ya dieing dough fly?
Ya got 36 more to see/sing
Oh, yeah

Why you n*ggas be simping
Spice 1 and Kokane
Making this sh*t for you n*ggas that be blooding and cripping
Oh yeah

Penal code section 11-3-5-0
In possession of cocaine
It's the east bay gangsta
Ohh and we doing it/this
I/we represent pomona from/to the O'
We doing it/this, doing it/this

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