|
I guess y'all ain't heard the news |
|
(About the homie gettin smoked?) Choked out in his county blues |
|
(Say what?) By the deputy goon squad |
|
Devils still pourin salt on the wound, but God |
|
Only knows what them brothers went through |
|
Damn (The police killed em?) Shit, I thought you knew |
|
They tried to put the blame on this lame from the other side |
|
Hopin we retaliatin, go on another ride |
|
Keepin us warin, tellin lie after lie |
|
So it's gang-related every time brothers die? |
|
(Hell nah) (Now that's a false accusation) |
|
(Gettin choked ain't no goddamn gang-relation) |
|
(Nigga, one-time's ain't posin no threath?) |
|
Shit, I found out they the ones been crossin out the set |
|
All alone, so ain't that a bitch? |
|
Yeah, I finally heard a officer snitch |
|
So which ever one of y'all brothers true sidin? |
|
Quit your open enemy, save your energy for the hoo-ridin |
|
Who ridin? |
|
[VERSE 2] |
|
Ashes to ashes, back to the dust |
|
Another dead homie, show me who I can trust |
|
It's all about self and kind |
|
So now I gots reach upon my shelf and find |
|
Me another magazine for my heat, sweep me a street |
|
Feel the thrill of victory, and not the agony of defeat |
|
For one of ours we takin ten of y'all |
|
So for 24 hours, count the minute fall |
|
(That ain't all) Make a phone call to your Uncle Toms |
|
Cause I'm ridin to they neighborhood chunkin bombs |
|
See, Vietnam's back in effect on the Eastside |
|
Since police ride, ever since the peace died |
|
Niggas gangbangin like in '82 |
|
Next victim of a drive-by shootin, it may be you |
|
I thought you knew it was on like that |
|
When brothers who ain't even full grown might gat |
|
Who ridin? |
|
[VERSE 3] |
|
So if you ain't down, raise up |
|
Now I don't need a drink or a joint to blaze up |
|
Cause I'm already focused, sittin back, thinkin bout the truce |
|
Sayin prayers for my homies on my way to Lake Luise |
|
Floatin down the highway at 3 pm |
|
They ain't even seen us yet, but we see them |
|
The same ones who took the homeboys' lives |
|
Headin back home to they kids and they housewifes |
|
Lookin like any other million Joes |
|
Rollin incognito in civilian clothes |
|
But been givin blacks hell all day with no shame |
|
You're the kind who give cops a bad name |
|
So we on the freeway lookin far to claim |
|
Creepin up slow in a car blue lane |
|
All the straps is loaded and cocked, but mine's not |
|
Slow down a second, and kick it in his blind spot |
|
Now it's on, my heart starts pumpin |
|
Got the 50 round clip, and I'm steadily dumpin |
|
Jumpin lane to lane, it's to the off-ramp |
|
I'm feelin numb, I ain't from no soft camp |
|
So let's vamp |
|
Now we can track back to the other side |
|
Another day, another hoo-ride |
|
Who ridin' |
