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 #


"G’s iz G’s"

(Who we got?)
We got Catash and Kuruption
What the f*ck is yo' function?

We got Catash and Kurupt
'Bout to f*ck sh*t up
I'm sippin' nuttin' but the best; what you got in yo' cup?

[Verse one--Tash]
Yeah, yeah, that make me tweak on beats
Tash be kickin' so much ass I rock cleats on concrete
So get the pictuah
My rap style'll hit ya 'til ya move back
This ain't the kind of sh*t that help Stella get her groove back
It's on co' uncle
Raps that keeps me flossin'
While yo' album on the shelf gettin' dusty at the Slausson
Pop that Glock
Clock that knot
It's thin line between love and hate
It's thin line between Compton 'n' Watts
What you got?
Yo' motherf*ckers is nerds
Yo, Kurupt, tell these n*ggas what the f*ck you heard!

(Check it out)
I heard it saggin' in bandanas
sh*t to spit the leaves
Split like bananas
Poetical scanners
Make the crowd go banana'
Furious, luxurious, an' glamorous
b*tches and cameras
Impenetrability exerts
Burst a verse
And since nuttin' but trouble incense j*rks (Back in the day)
Silently clashin'
Clash is
Throwin' towels in like passes
All I want to know is where the ass is
If you got yo' pistol let it sizzle an' whistle
I'm agile; you fragile--
Glass and crystal
I'm priceless--the nicest
Yeah, that's right
Nice enough to bring the snub and bust on sight

We got Catash and Kurupt
'Bout to f*ck it up
I'm sippin' nuttin' but the best; what you got in yo' cup?
Hennessey, n*gga
Yeah, yeah, oh, yeah indeed
You know I got the Malibu
I got the Orange weed
We got Catash and Kurupt
'Bout to f*ck it up
I'm sippin' nuttin' but the best; what you got in yo' cup?
O.E., homey, yeah
Oh, yeah, indeed
You know I got the Hennessey
I got the Orange weed, n*gga
Cause bustas is bustas, an' G's iz G's
But ain't nobody f*ckin' 'round wit' MCs like these

[Verse two--Tash]
Somebody buck this n*gga' keys; this lil' punk must be drunk
I let that n*gga hit my weed, he walked away wit' my blunt
And that's a no-no, loco
So it's one way to settle this:
You gots to box a round wit' the ghetto-est gold medalist
Tash got a rough rambunction in the function
Yo, this sh*t ain't even fear
It's kinda like we punchin' Munchkins
So let that n*gga slide
He too wide-eyed to hide it
Tash'll slap his ass so hard, I'll leave his Afro lopsided
You got it?
Tell your Boyz 'N' The Hood
My style's a work of art--it's like I carved it from wood
I'm often misunderstood, cause my style is freaky-deaky
I could say some simple sh*t and lose your stupid ass completely
So meet me on the block when you come to the West
Bangin' styles that'll wash you up quicker than Zest
Layin' rap styles to rest if yo' sh*t ain't tight (Nighty-night)
Yo, Catash, tell these n*ggas who they got tonight!

Rum 'n' Coke...
Gin 'n' juice...

Olde English 800
Yeah, that's my brand
Drink it in a cold 40 ounce or a can
Only if gangstas come, I'll mash
Quickly be on ritzy, cause he down to blast
If you got it, I'm 'a get it
Ya heard me, homey?
I'm O.G
I swerve and dip slowly, homey
Easily I approach
This bustah-ass n*gga fi'n' to blaze this roach
Pull out my pistol and put it to his chin
It's already c*cked, so, I'm like "f*ck it, then"
You's a b*tch, and that's all you'll be
An' I don't give a f*ck to let a n*gga hear it from me
You got calibers, I got Cali-co
You got Teflon, I got napalm
I come around from the side
I'm gangstain' it up
Pimpin' wit' pounds o' hash
Wit' dis bad lil' mama wit' a gang o' ass

Yeah, n*ggas
Kurupt Young Gotti
Tash, wha's crackin?

You know...
Same sh*t different toilet
Put it down, my n*gga from the West Coast
Kurupt: Dogg Pound Gangsta
But hold up, man
While we in this muthaf*ckah, let me give a shout-out to my n*gga King
The whole Likwit Crew (Only bad b*tches allowed)
Oh, what?
Only bad b*tches?
It's a gangsta party

Alkaholik gathering, muthaf*ckah...punk

Alkaholiks, DPG

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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