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Garland Entree - Karl L. King lyrics
MC Ren up in this motherfucker
West, West y'all
Yeah, LA niggaz, LA niggaz rule the world, nigga
Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, ya know what I'm sayin'?
Niggaz don't wanna peep game, ya know what I'm sayin'?
But this shit come all the way back around here
My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass
Ya know what I'm sayin'? You gotta recognize
LA niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga
Recognize this
Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag
Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag
G'd from the feet up
Blued up from the sewer's, how I grew up
Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' til we threw up, threw up
At Leimert park, taggin', hittin' fools up
Ditchin' my class, just to fuck yo' school up
You don't wanna blast, nigga, tuck yo' tool up
But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you
Now, there's another motherfucker with no future
But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
Got 'em jumpin' [Incomprehensible]
I'm comin' straight outta Compton with a loose cannon
Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit tha liks
And Hittman bought a fix
Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch
Here it tick, tick, tick, tick
Wait a minute, it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it
From sundown to sunup, clown done run up
The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?
We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival each day in LA
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act this way in LA
Gimme that mic, fool, it's a West coast Jack move
They call me Hitt 'cause I spit like gats do
Cock me back, bust caps for my max crew at Fairfax
Who used to wear air max shoes, that's true
But I grew up where niggaz, jack you, harass you
Blast you, for that set you claim, where you from?
Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C K B K
Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang
I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my waistline
I look humble wanna rumble? Yeah yeah
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline
Don't waste my time, fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's
One-time's, sunshines and fine-ass bitches
Hawaiian, Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches
I was raised in the hood called, What The Dif'
Where the brothers in the hood refused to go Hollywood
Slugs for the fuck of it
Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick
If I catch you touchin' mine, you catch a flat line, dead on the floor
Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore
It's Avirex to the Z
Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV
Cassette and CD, it's all mine, the whole nine the right time
Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie, what?
So neither do I, I'm bad for your health
Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself
Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'
Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer
Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll
Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'
And bruise by the case
Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit kings wit sedans and gold rings
Haters fold the style but can't find no openings
We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat
Requirements for survival each day in LA
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act this way in LA
In LA
That's how we ride
That's how we ride, ho
That's how we ride, yeah
That's how we ride
MC Ren up in this motherfucker
West, West y'all
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