Daz Dillinger - Gang Bangin Ass Criminal lyrics

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[Daz Dillinger]

Yeah, Daz Dillinger

I'm gonna take you into some gangsta shit

What y'all niggas don't even know about

And now you ?feels? to know about,

what we call Gangsta Rap

But this is for the niggas who was down from day one

Love to hear, love to hear you motherfuckers

I advise all you ghetto livin', struggling from day to day,

tryin' to flip a figure dollar devil up inside a bag of weed,

a fresh pair of khakis and take a bitch to the groovy ass niggas

To get your money man, get paid

These motherfuckers are cut off welfare

How are we go eat if we don't cheat

These (?) bitch to me made the game out of young black niggas lives

Striking us out from left to right

With no motherfucking one in sight

Fuck that!!

Sell your dope

Get your jack on, get your sack on,

put your rag on and get your motherfucking thang on, niggas

Cause it's on

God dammit it's on

Now what the hell you bout to go youngster

[The Gang (Tray Deee, Ty Cuzz, Bad A$$, Technique)]

Go ride nigga

Bout to go get the homies nigga, right now

[Daz] Oh yeah motherfucker it's on

[The Gang]

Ay come on Bad A$$ let's do it nigga, it's on now nigga

Ay ay nigga

What's up nigga (What's up)

Ay nigga

Nigga the homie called, the big shot today nigga (Word)

Nigga you were ment to meet him today nigga

(Man I take my baby inside today man)

What's up

Nigga

Nigga, Ay, We can't realy talk right now tough nigga (Alright)

But uh, it's going down later on 9-30 nigga

The big man hoe nigga

Be there nigga

Yeah

[Bad A$$ ]What's up Daz Dillinger

[Daz] Shit, Bad A$$, tryin' to keep it realer than real, man

Least half these punk ass....

motherfucking niggas around here bullshittin'

The big spot nigga, ain't clockin' no dollar.

[BA] Man I'm trying to have

Man I ain't trying to go for shit

[DD] Man you know my glock is hot

(Eastside)

Verse One: [Kurupt Tha Kingpin]

I'm coming through your zone late night, shit

Dogg Pound Gangsta to flame the light shit

Cause I hold on,

I'm 20 feet tall

The biggest walkin' bill fuck around to get killed

Get shoot

Don't try to sneak a peak in my book

(?Home at hose?) , overdose the thoughts when he look

The forbidden

The hittin' zone that I'm hitting

Don't play with my intelligence nigga as the heat (?slittin'?)

(?)

So I only got two choices; loc me the blasin' bomb

Vietnam

I bring the pain rains no (?)

Execution style is the shells from the heat veal

Down to the ground like the rest of the dummies

Just what the fuck you thinkin' try to play with my money

It's nothing but the Dogg Pound Gangstas

Mashes, verbal disasters, 38 stashes

Verse Two: [Tray Deee]

I arise in disguise to surprise that ass

What you thought you caught me short

I might ride to blast

With the canna

We let the shit all up in your nuts

When niggas droppin', they stop with the plan they plots

Got to stop for my gate

With (?) of break

Marked niggas caught in, they try to win and get sprayed

Rip the gates

Go flip the page to chapter three

First groove, they fools can't come after me

I mash to free,

styles of catastrophe

Ask for G

A nigga best to answer me

My rip long as the beach that I represent

Dead nigga with my stare not to step to this

Verse Three: [Daz Dillinger]

Now o yeah Tray Deee

I mean I see the whole plot

Be on alert, niggas shot

Anywhere under that nigga caught

So drop the microphone on my own

I shown to blown

Away for these MC's with the sludge of a chrome

I take the fang

Down on my own lyrical name

When the sees are changed ,

when the storms and hurricanes

Wide strand

Spittin' rhymes, the beats so precise

(?)

skatin' on mics like ice

Twice in the day

I get drunk,

(?) of plastic bags

Sack in the truck

because the rhyme as claim

I shit buck like the doctor

Coming through

Bouncin' with the droptop

Like gangstas chillin on the block

Nah, we ain't worry for shit

Got escape doors like Capone

Whit chick your dick on my clip

Forty-fives and nives

Three-eighties and automatics

Sniveling, coming through for you

when your boys with some stats

I got to have eleven to thrill of the drama

Enthusing me to gets my norm with the slaughter

Ought to be known as Daz Dillinger

For the shit that I known for

A Dogg Pound criminal

Verse Four: [Soopafly]

Now if the spot's hot

I hit the switch make the topdrop

Don't stop

It's Soopafly with the sho shot

Won't stop

I got ya whole shit to

Look and listen

I rendition the rhymes with precision

You can't face

Amaze me a place like a saddle

It's Dogg Pound Ganstas (?) like a shadow

I never met a motherfucker who can make you stick

I never met a motherfucker who can feel my clique

You serve, you'll make the twitch like a nerve

You'll try to step to my wild style seperve

Adjective the verve

Action pack with the words

I'll make it stop

The jaws drop and observe

I sold the block for Crook, Daz, Style and Tray Deee

We be coming with the shit

That be the bomb baby

And ain't a Dogg Pound Gangsta will knock you to the flow

Either you stupid as fuck or just don't know

Verse Five: [Bad A$$]

Now I know you, know you,

stupid as fuck

Cock, bust like a sawed off punk,

double barrel on 'em

Black gambinos at casinos

Get De Niro on 'em

If I want 'em

I go get 'em

If I gotta shot a nine

Twice, that's what I rhyme like

My clip ain't empty

Do try to test the ridah

Nativity simply

Bust, I lead inside ya

Find ya

Fear them, frightened for your life

With your last few

Live with hot live from gunblast

Outlaws, outcast

Low life, south last

Long Beach niggas blast

Yeah the b-side is right

The most, the coast

The west, the best

We damn bitches

Sippin', hittin' switches

Dippin' hittin' robbin' niggas

Itchy fingers on triggers

Itty, bitty niggas

Ready for war

We kick down your door

Draw eatin'

Lay everybody down on the floor

Verse Six: [Technique]

The same thing, different place

With snakes, cowards and strong grown

Robbery cases, niggas faces

On paperchase

It was seen, it was written

It ain't forbidden

For homies to be splittin'

Disagree, no one was hitten

Known with the curls

The many obstacles

Impressions to the feet from gettin' served

Growing up is rough

Your name

Here's the streets it gets tough

You can (?) and (?)

Then I guess you had enough

Over (?)

It ain't coincidental that I be distorted

And my manual

Minds

Is for seein', so I watch

Bodies and plots

Win the plots

Call the shots for your nuts

Nigga grips

That's why I (?) my dippin' progress

Cause why is all we tryin' to defeat the progress

I just ain't the one mystic to hit

Young Jonesy sees

Who I got a mission to hit

And constantly flips scripts

Outta wall with balls fast talkin'

And quick draws

How the problem is solved

I want it all (I want it all)

But it's movin' to slow

I'm out to blow

I don't know which way to go,

was on the right path

I thought

Without doin' a dirty word about getting caught

("getting caught" echoes)