West Coast, it's time to stand up We gon' unite 'round this motherf*** one time I'm callin' every real Crip And every real B dog to the table right now Yeah, we gon' push a real line right now See if y'all with this real gangsta guerrilla *** Have you ever seen a hundred thousand Rip riders from the side? Blue Chucks, blue rags, gray clouds, blue skies On the move, can't lose, Hill Street Blues *** gotta pay they dues on the crews Or with the ***, spray these suckas, then I cruise My granny saw it on the news She shook up, look up and then she put me on the move I tried to get away but I couldn't get far 'Cause the homies had the loop-loop that night at King Park And I got into a squab, got caught and went to jail Straight to the County with no motherf*** bail Forty eight hundred with this Crippin', oh well My big homie, Boy Blue snatched me by my coattail He said, 'Trip Dogg, you better get right, Crip right?' Eyes open 'cause *** get stuck on seez-ight It ain't no motherf*** problem, pop-pop, tick-tock Never flip-flop, 20 Crippin' 'til I drop Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip So what, so what, so what, so what? Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip So what, so what, so what, so what? Crip Is I in the motherf*** S-5? With the red bandanna, double knotted 'round the rear view *** see clear through, they know that it's Game Cherry red Lowenhart's let 'em know that I bang So bang like Snoop in 'Deep Cover' I got the seat reclined, *** under the white-T, smothered Dippin' down Green Leaf, I ain't got no enemies Been shot five times, now I bleed Hennessey And bang for my *** locked up, they can't stop us It ain't a gangsta party 'til we go and dig Pac up I'm Dr. Martin Luther King with two *** on Huey P. Newton with Air Force Ones on I *** but I'm the opposite of Tookie Williams Red Lambo', red bandanna, print ceilin' Me and Snoop got the West Coast locked Red and blue rag tied in a knot With all my motherf*** homies yellin' out So what, so what, so what, so what? Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip So what, so what, so what, so what? Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip I ran outta gas in Long Beach, I'm stuck Ain't no Bloods and all I see is blue Chucks Hopped out the '6-trey, nowhere to go Til' Snoop pulled up in that Pittsburgh Steeler '6-4 We 'Just Dippin', one Bloodin', one Crippin' I'm on that Bulls ***, throwback Scott Pippen Moral is, my bandana hangin' from the left side 'So if you ain't a Crip or a Blood, just throw up Westside' What up, Blood? Yeah cuz, we just tippin' Me and Game doin' thangs, switchin' lanes, Hurricanes on my feet Stop and C-Walk to the beat Game, take the wheel and turn on 21st Street Eastside, LBC, *** in my hand It's the turf by the surf but we don't play in the sand We just slip and slide out, we Rip and ride out Let it C known, *** welcome to the Thunderdome Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip So what, so what, so what, so what? Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip So what, so what, so what, so what? So what, so what, so what, so what? Crip, Crip, Crip © MUSIC OF WINDSWEPT; MY OWN CHIT MUSIC; ROSEMAC PUBLISHING; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com