BLOODS & CRIPS - Gs & Locs

rate me


I wake up in the morning pop my clip up in my shit

I'm puttin' in work, smokin' a Crab like a bigarette

One more Crab have to die niggas wonder why

I sit back relax - in the cut - as his mama cry

His homies want some get back

But they can get a toe-tag and that's what you get

For takin' out your nasty flue rag

The bust - bust with the click

?? they call this true flue

I smoke the whole Crab crew

Your baby mamas too, and you

My name is evil Bat and I'm a rebel and a soldier

I'm sparkin' like some folders

E-Rickets like I told ya

I got you Crab Rickets on the tip of your toes

And you be all on my jock

Cause you be diggin' my flows

And D.J. Quik I took your beat

Now I'm lookin' for you


To them Bloods and them Pirus

You Rickets just be talkin' I be spittin' that heat

Give it up for this Swan East Side M-S-B-G


Slobs lie dead in the shelf full of .9 lead

17 shots to the face left the Snoop dead

Cause I never slipped fully clip for the drive-by

Lettin' off shots on the Crens watch these Snoops die

For me takin' life

As how I leave scars no holds barred

Known to be hard, pullin' cards, leavin' Snoops charred

Not to be fucked with play with the step two

I trip by a bitch cause I'm killin' Slob ho's too

So pull out your muthafuckin' nuts cause it's jack time

Fuck a Tec-9

This 44 will make you Slobs respect mine

Hard to the dome gets me ready for some action

Plus I sip on some 'gnac

Now I'm set to go blastin', packin'

A muthafuckin Mac-10

With the Desert Eagle off safety to make more Slobs hate me

Gravely, cause ain't no comin' fake, see

All conversation is ended, when my arm is extended

And hand clenched around the pistol

My partners will make peel like ??

Fuck a Slob and what he live for

Troll Loc with the 'K in the C-P-T

Fuck a B-Dog you should have been a L-O-C


Back on your ass nigga it's me

It's that nigga from the West Side C-M-G

Straight fuckin' it up

Cause it ain't no stoppin'

Crabs know if it's on then it's motherfuckin' poppin'

Rickets wanna trip

But I don't give a shit

I'm ??? a script - makin' my grip

With the shit that's on it

Snap crackle

Motherfuckin' pop one shot from my Glock and your punk ass drop hoe

Lolly-ass Crab niggas bangin' on wax fool

If you dis my hood then I'm peelin' your fuckin' cap

It's the 10 and the 4 mafioso, uh, nigga

C-K Century and Crabs can't get with the


I'm C to the M to the G, I'm

B to the L double O motherfuckin' D

It's the O.G. West Side name Lil' Hawkster

Nigga I ain't from Africa

Blood, I'm from Crenshaw Mafia nigga



I made a mistake thought I was down with the Peach street

Went to a truce meet - livin' in Elm street

I can drink the Thunderbird until I get sick

But weed don't get me high enough so I smoke a sherm stick

Trip - a bitch in red make a B.G. if

I disagree with the homies cause I ain't mackin' to no Slob bitch

The wrong Kelly to fuck with

To press your luck with

A Kelly you don't want to get stuck with

White ducks better watch their dome

When I'm on 7-6 with my muthafuckin' chrome

It's like a nightmare on Elm street when I creep

And lay them niggas down for the K.P.

Blue coat, blue beanie and blue Chucks

On your Avenues shit out of luck and stuck

A flee-dog ain't shit to me

K's up I'm a motherfuckin' L-O double C

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