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It's time to drop the gas from the chamber |
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Niggas on AWOL rearrange your |
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Face with the quickness |
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And it's the Garden Block sickness that got a nigga in this shit |
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So you better watch your back |
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'Cause C-Bo got the strap |
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Pulling the ski mask down |
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About to jack |
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'Cause marks come up short |
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You better back back like an eight legged crawdad, from the 44 |
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Your'e scared to walk your alleys now |
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'Cause now days, niggas from my hood |
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Will snatch your ass out the fucking crowd |
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And beat you down to the concrete |
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And then I piss on your ass with some of that Crazy |
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Horse, Of course |
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Niggas die |
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Meet my 44 |
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Then it's over 'cause your'e hit by the hardcore |
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We can't be in the same gang |
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'Cause the gang I'm in, ain't down with that ying-yang |
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So raise up off the block |
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'Cause you get no props, nigga, against 32 shots |
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Come to my set, get chin checked |
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Mark, by an original gangster vet |
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And then I put the niggity nuts in your mouth |
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Your ass was in, but now your ass is out |
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Quick, hurry, in a dash |
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Get ready to feel the blast from the chamber punk |
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Come take a whiff of the gas |
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[Verse2] |
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Check, Ace, Deuce, Tre |
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So now it's on |
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Release Slugs from my strap, until they gone |
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And talking shit won't last |
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Get your ass blast |
|
As I let the mac-10 tap that ass |
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Bo-Loc is what they call me |
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For the reason |
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I stay strapped and smoke ducks all through the season |
