Geah
In the muthafuckin house
For the 9 to the 6
Geah
To them bitch-ass niggas
We know your residential spot
The red dot's on your dome, geah fool, I'm ready to pull this
Trigger, nigga, straight bangin to the fullest
Original baby gangster on the block
159 reasons to bust you with the dirty glock
It looks like rain, so I'm wettin
Your hood, of course, no remorse, better start jettin
No need for fuckin with the killer when I'm goin down
Nigga please, no R.I.P.'s for these Westside gees
I fires up the stick, grabs the nine and the clip
Which I stash by my fuckin dick
Definitely set-trippin, reminiscin
Bout my homies who died from the Park
From Casual to Short
Line up the homie as a teardrop falls
No time for back-trackin, cause hood work calls
Housecalls be given, where you livin, unforgiven
My mentality's like the dead has risen
Hit your block with the glock cocked, I'm ready to pull it
Not givin a damn, fool, catch the fuckin bullet
Your mama, your daddy, your old annie-granny
Oh no, I'm loco, out the roof of the Caddy
Aw shit, fire spits out the hole of the Mac
I will send you on a trip where you won't be comin back
I pops a bitch-made nigga, and I'm cheesin
'96 is the killin season
Murder murder murder
Kill kill kill (3x)
Murder murder murder murder...
Geah, come on
I'ma flee the muthafuckin scene with nobody alive
The mentality's got me stuck in '85
Park boy straight bangin (right)
Peelin caps back to collect my stripes
From the 3rd to the Cly', then back to Taper
Niggas rollin through, they get nothin but the vapors
Bitch please, 159 gees
Fill your bucket, fuck it, full of holes like Swiss chee
Geah
In the muthafuckin house
For the 9 to the 6
Geah
To them bitch-ass niggas
We know your residential spot
The red dot's on your dome, geah fool, I'm ready to pull this
Trigger, nigga, straight bangin to the fullest
Original baby gangster on the block
159 reasons to bust you with the dirty glock
It looks like rain, so I'm wettin
Your hood, of course, no remorse, better start jettin
No need for fuckin with the killer when I'm goin down
Nigga please, no R.I.P.'s for these Westside gees
I fires up the stick, grabs the nine and the clip
Which I stash by my fuckin dick
Definitely set-trippin, reminiscin
Bout my homies who died from the Park
From Casual to Short
Line up the homie as a teardrop falls
No time for back-trackin, cause hood work calls
Housecalls be given, where you livin, unforgiven
My mentality's like the dead has risen
Hit your block with the glock cocked, I'm ready to pull it
Not givin a damn, fool, catch the fuckin bullet
Your mama, your daddy, your old annie-granny
Oh no, I'm loco, out the roof of the Caddy
Aw shit, fire spits out the hole of the Mac
I will send you on a trip where you won't be comin back
I pops a bitch-made nigga, and I'm cheesin
'96 is the killin season
Murder murder murder
Kill kill kill (3x)
Murder murder murder murder...
Geah, come on
I'ma flee the muthafuckin scene with nobody alive
The mentality's got me stuck in '85
Park boy straight bangin (right)
Peelin caps back to collect my stripes
From the 3rd to the Cly', then back to Taper
Niggas rollin through, they get nothin but the vapors
Bitch please, 159 gees
Fill your bucket, fuck it, full of holes like Swiss chee