SOUTH CENTRAL CARTEL

SOUTH CENTRAL CARTEL - 4 Yo Ear lyrics

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[CHORUS]

S.C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear

Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good

Rollin down the 'Shaw in my Lexus

[?] rims and my Alpine bumpin

The 808 is thumpin

[VERSE 1: Havikk the Rhime Son]

Dippin down yo block, battery's hot in a rag deuce

Flossin on threes, gold d's for my gees

Slidin [?] dub skatin evil as I swerve

Hit the switch on a bitch, post my Daytons on the curb

Easin through the hood, scope the scenery

Fiendin for the greenery

Gotta stack a end as I bend

North on the 'Shaw past the one-time flossin

Catch a fool slippin on them 100 spokes, he's walkin

Home like a buster, let the Alpine crank

Switch the CD as I fire up the dank

Oh thank God I'm a rider, Rhime Son be

Yo, that gee from the Carte...

With pockets on swoll' and the caviar's callin me

And niggas mad-doggin me bringin out the hog in me

Punk-ass busters wanna show me, they flexin

Parks my six-deuce as I jumps in my Lexus

[CHORUS]

S.C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear

Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good

[VERSE 2: Prodje'je]

Once again it's on, polish up the chrome on my coupe d

Open up a new [?]

The [?] is in my deck and it's rockin

Shockin, hoes wanna pose but I'm knockin

Boots as I swoops down the 91 West

Yes, I gots to wear a bullet-proof vest

Fools wanna trip so I trip back on em

Fuck they ass up till they hoes don't want em

I'm on em, the Eastside gees and the P

At ease, you don't wanna fuck with these

And we'se the malice, careless muthafuckas

Puttin pooh-puts in a jammie like Smuckers

My knockers holdin shit down like the underground

(We'll make you go round and round)

So now I'm callin up my crew

And what you gonna do

When you see the niggas in blue

[CHORUS]

S.C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear

Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good

Rollin down the 'Shaw in my Lexus

[?] rims and my Alpine bumpin

The 808 is thumpin

[VERSE 3: Droop & Twin]

One mo' time through yo hood and mines

You're walkin thin lines on these bomb-ass rhymes

And verses, sleepin off in hearses

Niggas on the run cause my flows cause curses

With verses, we ain't in this game for the fame

We just like servin hoods like a muthafuckin hurricane

Muthafuckin busters, me and Twin puttin it down in '96

Tossin up tricks and crossin niggas like chop sticks

Shit I spit hits your ears and cause pain

Stressin out your frame like you got Slim-Fast on your brain

It ain't no thing to be a in-the-cut rider

And it ain't no thing to be a black godfather

Think of a nigga standin 5 foot 6

With some baggy-ass pants and some bomb-ass kicks

Twin gives a fuck, loc, cause I'm a rider

With my nigga Droop be O.G. Westsider

[OUTRO: Havoc the Mouthpiece]

Rollin through your hood is another nigga from the Cartel

who done earned his stripes

bumpin "Flashlight"

tryin to get rich like Richie

[ ] through my city

[CHORUS: repeated till fade]

S.C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear

Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good

Rollin down the 'Shaw in my Lexus

[?] rims and my Alpine bumpin

The 808 is thumpin

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