C-BO - No Pain, No Gain lyrics

rate me

(feat. Lunasicc, Laroo)

Now it's on, flip me at '7-8 Coupe

Reds, hydraulics, duece, representin the do

and you can trip if ya wanna, but, boy, you be's a goner

Leavin bloody footprints from Sacramento to Palmona

I'm a dog when it come to this gangsta shit

A young hog from the block and never shrank to fit

Roll with the Hoovers and the E-C's, avalon watchin L-B's

Compton, Track New Park, the S-P-C's

Bakersfield, Fresno, Seven Trees

Duece nine outlies N-S-G's

My Bgz got to trippin when the homey got soaked

when they heard about the shootout that *?I so?* called for Bo-Loc

As I ride, ride til I die

Best to hide, nigga, when I hit your block

I bring death on the suckers when my Glock is cocked

I got hops in my Coupe, a pocket full of loot

and it don't matter who start to funk when you're ridin with the do

We just handle that shit like the locs that we is

Hit them niggas quick, fuck the bitches and the kids

Split wigs, watch graves get digged

Representin to the fullest, Guard Block Crib

Niggas wanna trip, well eat hollow tips

Never could you hang with my gang, no pain, no gain

[Chorus:]

Hoo-ride, mass slaughter, murder

Madmen, deadliest lyrical server

There is no higher, they gets no curver

Get em up close range, empty fullies and get further

[repeat]

Who got that gangsta, gangsta shit?

It be the niggas who got the biggest nuts and the gat that packs the

fullest clip

Gotta have more chips than a grab bag full of Doritos

Keep your bitch broken, make sure your pockets stay full of C-notes

Hardcore gangsta, fillin out a 20 year old nut

Gotta keep composure, puffin doja and it got me stuck

I'm down your strip, hopin I can pull a lick

Got an extra clip in case I have to zip a nigga's lip

Oh yes, my Dayna's look quite lovely

Pull up on your bitch's pit while you and your crew try to mug me

Huffin and puffin like, daddy

Gotcha ridin out eight-deep in your '96 Caddy

You tried to fuck but could do nothin but make my dick hard

You tried to dump so I had to creep and pull your whole card

Ya best respect or get checked by the Smith & Wess

Fuck a vest, hollows hit harder than a math test

[Chorus]

I never stop bringin pain, it's difficult for haters

Never spit game, the same speakers are our greatest

Make ya take your last breath, fuck it, where my payment?

I'm blazin up doja, this soldier regulate your statement

Some niggas is bangin, some niggas' just about the cash

Some flatline snitches miss me, look up on ass

I avoid the drama, tricks never to be toy with

Get as high as you want, irrelevant who you fuck with

Eight off, ran from the lead, cock the buck shit

You're whole mouthpiece spillin discharge, to verify we hit hard

Women do these timbos

Mind style missions, puttin the mashdown on nymphos

My son, labelled the Funky Nigga, plugs wit everybody

that's sittin on dividends, we filin down fully pants

Rapidly goin down, ain't comin back around

Release rounds, just terrorize your town

[Chorus]