C-Bo

[Too $hort]
Do it again...
We want it all (we want it)...
Everything you got (we want it)

We want the diamonds, the gold, the weed, the hoes
The coke spot and the keys to the Rolls
You out of business, but no need to hang up the sign
We 'bout to open up shop we got thangs to grind
So potnah dude don't come back through
Cause everything we see you with, we gon' want that too
It's the law of the land, the way of the jungle
Gotta watch your fuckin back when you slangin them bundles
Ain't no love for you on this side
You might have to die so we can get by
You know the dopefiends they got to get high
And if you ask me why, I'll just say it's life
You cain't handle the pressure, when them gangsters test ya
Why they smashin on you man, I think you best ta
ask yourself, who made this fake hoe rich?
Bitch nigga, we 'bout to take yo' shit cause we want it

[Chorus One: Too $hort]
Everything you got, we want it
(You got it, we want it)
Raise up off the block, we want it
(You got it, we want it)
Leave the shiny whip, we want it
(You got it, we want it)
And your fine bitch, we want it
(You got it, we want it)

[Too $hort]
Fo' pimps in a Range, choppin up the game
Gotta stop slangin 'caine we need a occupation change
Cause the pussy gon' sell like dope
Keep a nigga paid that's what I tell my hoe
Get that money man, wish y'all had a bunny ranch
Keep my hoe naked, never let her put on her pants
No truss, no pumps, no lingerie
Bitches hoein up that's goin on today
Like I told my pimpin potnah, you know these women gotta
give me every last dollar, when I see that bitch tomorrow
This is pimpin incorporated, I'm all the way in this shit
Married to the game, now get up out my business bitch
I'm talkin to some pimps about some pimp shit
It's a competition BITCH, I'm tryin to win this
And I just got another hoe she's fine as hell
I'm tryin to put some mo' trophies on the shelf

[Chorus Two: Too $hort]
Put her picture on the net, we want it
(You got it, we want it)
Give me everything you get, we want it
(You got it, we want it)
Don't make me whup your fuckin ass, we want it
(You got it, we want it)
You better get about the cash, we want it
(You got it, we want it)

[C-Bo]
C-Bo is on some gangster shit, four-fifth, banger clip
600 stuntin, 21 sittin on them sick
And how I get it dawg the same way I live it dawg
The gutter's grimy I catch 'em slippin and get it all
Take somethin, lay they block down, break somethin
Guerillas with bananas that make 'em lay down they hammers
Do it like the Santanas, rip the block to the slammer
And for the cash I want I'm known to get hot with them clammers
Heyyy, it's the heist for your jewels man
It's plain and simple, your ice or I shoot man
We get the stack of dollars, black Beemer black Impalas
Pull up and take the block, made niggaz made the block
I want it I get it I dip it I sit it
Rather it's jackin or pimpin these bitches, a nigga wit it
I go hard in the paint, hard large to the bank
At the club 20 grand at the bar on the drank

[Chorus One]

You know I never was no choir boy
Ya folks got a, gang of priors
Maybe that's why the one-time's be triflin
Tryin to give a young nigga thirty-five to life
When I ain't even done nothin wrong, off-icer
I have no in-fo to offer-ya
He asked my name, so I came off the brain
Told him, "I'm John Doe and this is my hoe Jane"
He said, "Smart mouth nigga, don't make me do ya"
Put my thumbprint in his high tech computer
My name came back with a warrant, felo-nies
Now they got me down-town, spread my anus
Buttock, I'm like, "What the FUCK is it now?"
He said, "You robbed a liquor store; we know where, when and how"
It's foul, they got a nigga to' up from the, flo' up
My mom, in the courtroom lookin like she bout to throw up
It's a strong armed robbery, strapped in the commision
At my pre-trial conference, D.A. had a proposition
He said if I lose at trial I'd get the ? with the L on top
But take the deal he'd give me five with havin most of the charges dropped
Hopped on the deal quicker than blast, and said
"I admit that, but two and a half ain't bad I got getback"
They sentenced me to five, two I gotta bring
It's only strike one swing, batta batta swing

[Chorus:]

It's one-eight-seven on the D.A., cause they
Ain't tryin to give a young motherfucker no leeway
Yes yes... y'all
One-eight-seven on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em all
You better swing, batta batta swing
Cause once you get your third felony, your fifty years you gotta bring
It's a deadly game of baseball
So when they try to pull you over
1 - shoot em in the face y'all
2 - shoot em in his face y'all
3 - take em on a chase y'all

Fresh out the pen, unrehabili-tated
Doin hella good, and my P.O. hates it
Hates Dick, she's a dyke lesbian bitch
Can't wait to violate for me for some petty ass shit
I gotta get a job, so I'm fillin out applications
Fightin the temptation, to slang nightshift, uhh
Minimum wage don't get it, five bucks a hour
Don't cut it, man I ain't widdit
So fuck it, I went and struck it rich, on the dope sack
My homie gave me two, and told me to bring a fo' back
Now it's time for me to start havin thangs
I flips me a Coupe and painted it candy-apple green
It gleams, clear coat sprayed on thickly
Fools out to get me cause my shit is lookin sticky
I'm at the club and I can feel them suckers scopin
I'm knowin they plottin on me, but I'm still hopin
That they won't fry me, unless they wanna die
They will be, drippin more blood, than Mrs. Simpson was
Sho' nuff, ain't no bluff, here them suckers come
Got me reachin up under the panel to handle the forty-four caliber gun, uhh
Spun his ass around with one of the fat Magnum rounds
Got him on the ground makin funny sounds, ohh
I got a problem, witnesses ten
Positive identifa-cation

[Chorus]

On swoll in the pen, cellmates with X-Raided
Now I'm on parole, five years later
The Bo loc is ready to have me a ball
Fuck my P.O., I'm goin AWOL
And you all can suck this dick, I'm sick
And tired of goin through all this bitch-made shit
I got two strikes right now as we speak, and peep
I'm not bout to let you motherfuckers do, me
I'm petty with a prior, will buy your fate
With Wilson in the office, you gets no date
So I'm putting all my belongings on Greyhound bus #22
Bound to another state, me and my crew
Unpacked my shit, stacked my grip
California and Pete Wilson can suck my dick!
And if you didn't already know, that you couldn't
Trust his ass, just look how he did Polly Klass
Used her death, and her family's name
So he can yank more votes, and political fame
It's a shame, that I'm the one they say is a monster
Juvenile delinquent, steppin out of sync with
But FUCK THAT, I ain't goin out, like a punk
That ain't my style, rip him from his asscrack
To hit nutsacks now, they wanna kill a nigga
Like me I blast one blast two that's strike three

[Chorus]

(feat. Mississippi)

If you've got a ton of big face hundred dollar bills
How much money would you have?
And every hundred dollar bill weigh a gram
And there's 28 grams in an ounce and there's 16 ounces in a pound
How many pounds is it in a ton?
Got to be about your uhh, uhh, uhh.....

[Verse One: C-Bo]

I slide thru, the 5-double 0 drop S-C
'97 Sport and shorts and matchin jew-els
Worth about a quarter, mil-ticket is how we dress
True ballers fakin meal tickets up in the West
I know you wanna touch us cos at the clubs you ladies rush us
Cos we're all about our cash, luxury livin and hoes love it
Havin money by the ton, Rolex and Bossalini
A nuchi give Versace cologne, now wanna see me
At my best or worst? I gets paper when I burst
Repeatedly, heated, dumpin low-low's, you know I'll burst
To get my cash on, I spin the A-1 dolla
For money by the ton, come get it with no soda

[Chorus: Mississippi]

Money by the ton, that's the way it comes
We all, get paid
Ooohhhh ooohhhh, we make
Money by the ton, that's the way it comes
We all, get paid
Oooohhhhh

[Verse Two: C-Bo]

I'm all about the paper, nothin can come between that
But Lexus, fully diamondback, ???? and bald caps
Holler "Thug", that's what we be, who you see?
Steepin out of ragboys, cornises and Bentleys
Six million dollar homes, we stays to the flow
Now how much cash can you stack in a twenty thousand pound boat?
It's money by the tons, fo' sho' homey and all hunds
And if ya get past the gate, cameras and pitbulls, you can have some
Flossin, no one flosses like bosses do
But caution, when they float cos the wrong step, bodyguards swoop
To protect those, diamond Rolexos
Sippin that XO on chromed-up leaky's and Lexo's
I put it down, pound for pound, surrounded by the millions
Fancy cars, movie stars tryin to make a billion
Come show them my cash bundle, you are a pocket
Addicted to money, they can't stop it, it's daily comin by the ton

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: C-Bo]

Now how you picture mad loot, stretch Rolls and rag Coupes?
Big faces laced, I want all my dollars brand new
I stand true to the game, on loot to the money train
Rolex's and diamond rings, big bodies with the blowed brains
I bring the pain to get the cash like Jesse James
Til the wild wild West is drained by Major Pain
Who got the loot? Big bodied Coupes and S-Classes
And when we swoop, kickin the loot or catchin casket
Load up the rigs, with crazy big-faced hunds
Headed for the drug, still weighin it by the ton
Cos money makes the world go round, stackin off-shore accounts
Waitin on the ?????
So be a baller, got to keep it on the slunder
Milli'ns by the hundred, transactions thru account numbers
More money than you ever seen in big faced hunds
Comin in a hundred and twenty million every ton

[Chorus x2]

(feat. Outlaw Immortalz)

[Intro: Voice speaking]
You rang
Is you down kichy, or even might love to me
Payin', bangin' another time
Look we got the trigger to quicker the caper
Fools leavin' they guns,
From the guns to the care to the bed to the scoop
In this life ain't nothing they can think off
But working overtime, nigga
Some motherfucking hard labor

[Verse 1: Kastro - Outlaw Immortalz]
They got my,
Kickin' in dust, dirty
Bust me, they must be dreamin'
Trust me these cowards heard a murder
And they ain't tryin' to see it
They got 'em in there
When I was to young to be in
So now I'm comatosed, shellshocked and barely breathin'
But,
Still I respect the game
Test me, you ain't Hussein
Outlaw like Josey Wales
Too tough to try to change
C-Bo, they take me, change no
We just slow at home
Ready for war plus we deadly

[Verse 2: Young Noble - Outlaw Immortalz]
I remember when one of my teachers told me
That I ain't shit, and ain't gon never be shit
Look at me now bitch and fluwed your kid with this
Now we're rainin' on our enemies
Hennessy got me critically,
Suddenly, instantly
Knew their planin' with my misery
It's to me from Makaveli the general
Military mind, outlaw with camisole
Critical condition for that hoes he fold
It Hard Labor, knowin' this rap shit might save us
Not from death, but where we came from

[Chorus: x2]
[Napolean - Outlaw Immortalz]
Nigga, all we do is act a fool is stay thugged out (Thugged out)
And the first nigga that act up was gettin' thugged out
Change the paper...
[Young Noble - Outlaw Immortalz]
...it's Hard Labor
Made the biggest plan that niggas makin'
Sound aped, cause it is rapin'
They can't fake it more

[Verse 3: Storm - Outlaw Immortalz]
Gotta make more warriors
Runnin' through my veins
The story's told while the game's the same
Fuck the world with your money, man, play the game
Got stuck with your heartbeat, who's to blame
What you know what I want, when you're bad as yours
Got a vision of my enemies hittin' the floor
From Makaveli to my Outlawz, I back 'em all
Keep your mind on my riches, when I even the score
First nigga where you at, speak, friend of fo'
Got a 9-G locked, it's for if you fall
Shoot first, let's play no different face
I die for the shit, nigga Hard Labor

[Verse 4: Kastro - Outlaw Immortalz]
Pick up my block, cock
Please not wanna put a stop to my plot
They locked my bitch up
And even tried to lock in my pops
It's Hard Labor, my moms, you craw me thinkin' to major
Mad, cause, nowadays too many hoes is on my pager
Pussy and paper
Pencil, politics and praise you
Chase you and even chase me
Straight to the penitentiary
Nigga, the hard life, hard fight and hard capers
Nigga, we're all thugs, overdosed in Hard Labor

[Voice Speaking:]
Walked in the club and said a nigga drugs do us all
Looked up and see my nigga Big C-Bo

[Verse 5: C-Bo]
Check I was born to this life ,a sin, as a young thug
Releasin' stress over (?) gin, laced with mud
From day one I knew is wasn't no motherfuckin' love
They use to jump doin' hands and now they jump in new as lust
I was confused first to see a church
On this hell on earth
But it was them fools first to took earth
For what it was worth
I was raised in this great community,
When there was no unity
And niggas be on they own,
As soon they reached (?cutety?)
Be you and me
Runnin' back, in a Cadillac
Fresh of a jack
With two straps in a Pontiac
With only one life to live
I guess the Lord had only one life to give
It seems so trifully, bought a hill
This fast nigga's life's a sin
It's hell on earth, ain't nothin' worse
Than givin' birth to kid
Talk to sin until he buried to dirt
It's been a thug life since day one,
When I was thugged in
25 Years later got rid off thuggin' Hard Labo

(feat. Big Skye)

[Verse One: C-Bo]

I was born in hell without a pistol
Now how can I survive with one live without a vest and 4-5?
Runnin from the Task Fo' but smashin for my cash
Bankin corners, hop it then I blast on their ass
See them piggies want me dead for sure or in the pen
Doin 10, instead of me in my Benz on some twins
Sippin Hen, smokin indica bomb
And keep my pedal to the metal til I'm high and gone
I know you rich niggas hate me, can I keep it real and feel this rap shit?
Didn't make me, got out the pen and flip the '97
Drop Mercedes, I'm the *?placenta?* of no love
Til the lord save me, straight thugs that'll dump slugs
Til they fuckin grave, mass murder motherfuckers to the front page
When we hit, we empty clips til we get paid
I've been a slave from my cradle to the grave
Nigga, fuck the world, I was raised in hell

[Chorus: C-Bo]

That's why we buck shit down and yell "Fuck the world!"
I'd rather die here in hell then die doin life in jail
But take the shot with a Mac 12, order hits on the pack tailed
From the block to Wotts, we are thug niggas raised in hell
[repeat]

[Verse Two: Big Syke]

I'm bailin thru the set wit a 40, smokin a cigarette
Blastin my radio, oldie tunes by The Marvalettes
Gangbangin vets on parole as I stroll thru
They rassle Gz like two craps and they strapped too
Oh how I love these niggas but I hate em with a passion
But I ride for these motherfuckers, when I don't even ask
Thug fashion from head to toe, I let the world know
That this is Thug Life, motherfucker, til I leave this ho
So as my knuckles drag the concrete, big homies hit the streets
Transgressions under pressure, preyin on the weak
I sink like a fish, I wish upon a ghetto star
If the enemies come thru and ride on me they won't get far
Big homey got out, hold 22's on a hang
Runnin around, sweatin motherfuckers, talkin bout "Let's throw them thangs"
Bang, I hit him with a bat and heard his skull crack
Then I got *?him the wind in the trach?* til he shattered, to get the Mac

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: C-Bo]

It ain't no love for bitch niggas
As I dump slugs and pull the plug on you bitch niggas
Pick up my phone and have some thugs hit you trick niggas
Wit on gloves or low tommy guns on them stitch niggas
Hit niggas with H-K's, split niggas with AK's when we mash for the cash
Doin a hundred, blastin buck shots off in that ass
True outlaws ready for war, souls will never die
The same day we meet death, the same day we ride
Dumpin slugs with Tek 9's, more bulletproofs my 4-5
I just let em fly, screamin out "Bitch nigga die"
We's about be a killer nigga, look outside
Tell me one reason why I should pray for eternal life
Born and taught in hell, with a gun store on every corner
Bodyguard, bulletproof doors, it's hard to be a goner
Strapped with heat, these West Coast streets of Killafornia
From day one, they have straps on em, cos we was raised in hell

[Chorus]

(feat. Killa Tay, JT Tha Bigga Figga)

We dump slugs, and fuck thugs for their drugs
When push come to shove ain't no motherfuckin love
Bow down, we just hit the town
But we brung shit like Hitler, bail em with a Sigma
Switch with the first shot, gotta check the spot
Burnin rubber out the parkin lot, pointin out the window
Stuck off indo, bumpin my nigga C-Bo
Bitches all in my business cos they think I move kilo's
I, call my people's on the mobile, gang all over, nationwide distribution
Now I'm posted up in Houston
Texas, ridin the Lexus but it's supremo
Niggas set trip, a solo weapon is essen(tial)
Keep the pepper spray on my car keys, only fuck with hard Gz
Still get my ball on like Clark
Nothin but the California hoggin me
Touchin triggers, real niggas, straight doggin freaks

[Chorus:]

Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?

We take the occupation when movin, my hustle never stop
Check what? Some babies camera's peep the blocks, stash the Glocks
Posi's squashed, ship ki's and here there's thousand dollar bidders
Rim hats with feathers, more money than Perry Ellis
Never known behind ???, talkin "let my nuts hang"
Trade ya the .4-5 and the Tek 9 for a drop Mustang
A long line of killers, drug dealers with stripes
Just schoolin, you're rollin pontentially, could take your advice

We count big face and straight laces by the hundreds
Ragtops and big blocks, gettin the money
Sippin X-O Hen, and I get it for the 1-10
In a convertible Benz, fearin hunted, on twins
They call me Bo-Loc, and fo' sho' I smoke the dodo
And flip the '97 Sport to shake the po-po
High rollers count, tall dollars will never fall
In this shit for the cash nigga, enter, forever ball

[Chorus]

We are surprised in this rap game
Straight gangsta shit makes the world go round, I'm nuttin nice
On a dice, bets are more wet and crush ice
X-O, stretch Rolls, Bza's and Lexo's
And fuck the best hoes, and never slippin like Magic Johnson
Keeps my cock down, increase my hatto, from Sac to Compton
Rolex down, fools shot up, solid ice
The gin in the cask was still followed by the vice
In the S-Class, we does it on the gas
On my cell, Bo poppin my collar, all about my cash
How many diggers can you scat? Now picture that
Without the feds on your back, homey, and that's a fact
We attack with Mac 1-12's to protect my sack
I pick up my pack, tellin the order "handle that"
It ain't no room for you busters cos we knuckle ya downfall
Player haters, fuck y'all, let these ballers all ball

[Chorus:]

Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Can we all ball?
Tell me, can we ball?

Ballin in a 600SL
Drop top with the fat V12
Money hella-long, smoke blunts not a bong
Niggas can't fuck cos I crunch em like Kong
I be deadly as The Predator
My .50 calibre Desert Eagle'll spread ya, and behead ya
Pistol wieghs a tonne, bullets come like a guillotine
Poisonous tips hit and explode thru the war scene
Like morphine and heroin, I'm the shit
Every dope fiend needs a hit
Gangs need to stick at this gangsta shit
To take that monkey off their back and have em gettin licks
I'm the neighbourhood's drama, dead man's trauma like O-Dogg
And Kane, I'm loc to the brain, got the afro
Padded, fully automatic decrease the statics
Two fingers spreaded, hittin em up and let em have it

[Chorus:]

Desperado outlaws thru the dirt
Sendin BG's blastin, puttin men to work
Trapped in America to die in these bloody streets
Goin head up, with suckers all psyched up in heat
[repeat]

Murder, murder, kill, kill
California's the state where most caps get peeled
Back, catcha, pigs on a stretcher
Three strike law got us livin under pressure
Know he wanna take mine, hand on his waistline
Side of his spine I get to dumpin with the Tek 9
Got his back smokin, crack that ass open
Bullet holes the size of a token
Got his ass chokin on piss and blood
Crooked ass piggies don't get no love, uhh
Life or death, a .4-5 Smith & Wess
I had that nappy-headed ass stretched
If you try to dack me in my neighbourhood, I'm dumpin
And ya best ta run cos my BGz is comin
Clips full of teflons, loc'd out and crazy
And they won't stop til you're pushin up daisies, uhh

[Chorus]

Body snatcher, caught up in a rapture
Black heads explode ya flesh when they capture
You don't wanna see me in my beanie wit my locs on
Ol' school mouth wit no *?style?* gettin my smoke on
.4-5 stormin, rainin and pourin
Mobbin down floorin, psycho like Norman
Bates, no trace, no murder case
Innocent like OJ
House niggas get scoped by the revolution shooters
Fuck *?Glyn Craig?* then we gunnin down Cooper
Cos he wanna send all niggas to the pen
Thinkin that they fucked but Gz don't bend
Never been a snitch, *?Mark Keane?* can suck a dick
And fuck John Green, for bein prejudiced
Never liked rap, and did a nigga from a scrap
Yea me to the max, but I'm back, piggies

[Chorus]

(feat. Mob Figgas)

[Verse One: C-Bo]

Twenty five years old, still tryin to make a livin off-a
One live, then they're only slugs give a nigga
Fuck holes in my chest, took my last breath
I, squeeze my Mag and I'm taggin him to his death ridah
Surpise the whole block when we slide up
An expedition in business, holdin them 9's up
First to die be the first nigga that speak
Murdered to death in the Killafornia streets
I live my life behind a pistol, smash for the cash
Bitch, life is too short that's why we murdered your ass
Give a shout to y'all homies, gave your pussy to a thug nigga
And all the cops they gave their money to the drug dealers
Dump slugs on all y'all piggies, that club nigga
And big dicks is why you white bitches love niggas
A black warrior, finger on the fuckin trigger
Before I die bet they realise I'm a real nigga

[Chorus: C-Bo]

It ain't no clowin this trick, real niggas'll load clips
Pushin luxury cars, when we dip
It's all about stackin them chips, makin that long money flip
And haters that trip a click to catch clips, for real niggas
[repeat]

[Verse Two: Mob Figgas]

Bailin times, fuck it, Mob Figgas'll get the bustin
Ain't no exit out the dip, stuck is how I'm livin
Driven to be that male factor
It's like I have ???? a boot cha or do ya out the frame, and loot the cash
Rush ya, bust ya, with fo'-fifths and extra clips
Entrepeneur, check my profile, that Mob nigga now
Pushin weight to my Eastend loc, he called me *?craze is grey?*
Like Tony but never phony, that bitch ???? ????

I'm bringin it to em like this, Mob Figgas, real niggas down to kill niggas
Five niggas, live niggas, lick and do or die, nigga
Nine's nigga's time's tickin when I blow your mind, nigga
Call me AP-9, nigga, boogie's when we rhyme, nigga
I hit the block and have it sold
See my freakers hittin vicious on them po's, that's the way the game goes
On tre-low, I stay low, dippin crate loads
Never had my niggas leavin nappy, runnin big blocks and cavi

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Mob Figgas]

It's the hustler, you figure out I pack the biggest strap
Boy, I get savage, fold some cabbage, paper chasin is effect
Real niggas lost the fake, and a war that's takin place
You might get chopped up by the gauge, you ain't the kind that can't relate
Walk and trip into my car, stompin a chop off in my drawers
It's the hustler verse em all, so I blast if it's called fo'
Your detective ass wears raw do', real niggas keepin it inside do'
While real niggas is ridin, that's how we flex when we despise

The Mob Figgas, I grew up with these niggas
Trust my life for real niggas, ??? be the first to blast
So I don't have no fear, when I'm out here
But life still be makin me sick
Had to feel the Gleec kick and see heat rip flesh from the unfortunate
Allah bless your soul
I know I was wrong but he crossed the real
So I prayed that you will have understandin and feel
My story, when it's time to wrestle niggas to respect

Real niggas out to get, out to get it on
Screamin "Fuck em all" wit my back against the wall
They can't hold me back, I be the first to dump
On the worthless filth punk as he jump, felts kick from the pump
When my nuts was young, we see they hung to the floor
And when they severs 2-11's like teflon dyin out the door
What they know? We Mob Figgas, born in them savage times
Fuck your average ass rhymes, nigga

[Chorus]

(feat. Laroo, Lil' Bo, the Mob Figgas)

I see so many murders in these Cali streets
I load the strap in the battle, won wit death to get beat, who ever thinks
Of defeat?
When in ??? ???, I keep my eyes on the prize
Cos ain't nobody killin me, I be the Big Gangsta
>From up North, no pain, no gain
Nigga, fuck the fame, slide the chips and serve caine
Cos I'ma pack a pistol til' I die, bitch, and fuck you pigs
That got me down on that hitlist, I know you're followin me
You're round in my 500
But I commence to shake you piggies while I'm gettin blunted
My nigga 2PAC died and now you hoes is hunted
I give a fuck, I'll buck you down and stare, whatever you're comin
I gun em down like a chump bitch, and leave em neckless, front seat
Like a stamp, bitch, run up and load another clip
And then I vamp, bitch, this gangbang mentality be havin me amped

I like to smoke bomb-ator, mean and rush a hater
Put a rush in gators, shoulda seen when I sprayed her
Live fast, die early, no heart, no glory
25 with a L cos the judge couldn't feel my story
Oh no, not me, I got kids to feed
Shoot my way out any situation til' death do me
Part from the streets, it's mandatory, got packet ???
And I jack it, it's major dope when I rap it

[Chorus:]

I'm all in for the paper, big bases I chases
I keep a Glock on the side of my hip when in unfamiliar places
I stay ready for ridahs, see I know how they think
It ain't no killin me before I dump caps in they bod-ies
We be the Big Gangsta, think quick, like karate
Smash all the pranksters, makin hits like a Got-ti
Drink nuttin but the best, X-O, Hennessey
And when I dies, an outlaw ridah is how they remember me

I bounce into the club, drunk and seein doubles
That's why I got twin Glocks so I can bust both of them bubbles
You're runnin from the rumble, this sound is terrifyin
You're hearin death callin, now you're scared to die
Prepare for the annihi-lation of player-hation
You're calicos is blazin, never known for grazin, I'm shot but it's amazin
Butts haulin on the pavement, holy mother, place him in a casket
Murderin all them bastards

Loc'd on in, sex, from ??? ??? sack ??? ??? that's major
Pain, that 50 calibre and nothin
That's when we spark that wing that park, y'know the deal, shot stop
Everybody drop and watch the Bourbon Bill
You was fuckin with some true, soldiers
So when the tides had turned, you started snitchin to them rollers
You got fucked in a bad situation
My thugs got the L but the po-po's didn't know the situation

[Chorus]

I'm at the peak of my age when niggas, test, hack onto bullets
Thru your vest, and if your funks real-ly, I'm about to cut you ??? ???
Invest, this game that I be givin, I'm tryin to heal your soul
So we can all be known for that dough in rotty's vault
But if they wanna doublecross, we can do that too
Take em out the trunk, fully cocked wit two Glocks
Extendo clip, infrared light, put these vest on our chests
Murder, death, kill em, oh yes

Investiagtion on them Mob Figgas, no perpetration
On the job, my niggas mob niggas, across the nation
Pacin like a pimp, walkin witta limp cos my, calibre
Holds extended 50 round clips in a server
Plugged off Hennessey, the doja got me in a zone
Fo' a ho-zone, mad at niggas, whole hood sewn
Ridin wit a Tek if you wit reals, set the clip
With the infrared beam on your bishop, A-P mean on ya

All soldiers from my first generation just in case
All the damage left survivors, we official struggle strivers
Can no pressure make me crack? Sit the fuck back
Traumatise your whole click, enter this, enchant tricks
Got they gillholes workin, lacin em wit two textures
That top-of-the-line impact, regulate on my track
Smash down on your shit, clown when the truck dip
Like boo young buckshots be shredded, servin clocks-er
Still acts suspicious when it's time for 2-11's, got my pocket-size pistols
Breakin em my 7
If the shit ain't skanless, you'll never read my Mafia mind
Soldiers killin anybody tryin to pull his behind
Gotta do em bad, I'm tryin to make a million like my big homey Bolo
It's time to make a killin

[Chorus]

(feat. Lunasicc, 151)

[Chorus: C-Bo]

All I ever wanted was a pair of Nikes
A Lexus, a mansion and eternal life
Maybe what it was, I was askin for too much
Prayin to God, thinkin 'did he give a fuck?'
Twelve years old, I was always told
Every day I want it, that glitter ain't gold
But fuck that shit, I want a twelve inch dick
A Coupe, a chrome, and a money makin bitch

[Verse 1: C-Bo]

A 'Lac, front, back, man, I wish I had it
In a brim, Rolex down wit a automatic
I be the shit, pimpin hoes from Cali to Louisville
Strip em for money in Magic City and the A-T-L
Cos see these bitches ain't shit but investments
And they ain't worth shit unless they makin profit
I need a money-makin bitch to satisfy my needs
Some pussy, dough, diamonds and G's
So when I swoop in my coupe, out to get my loot
Collect it from hookers more famous than Betty Boo
It be that, legalised pimpin that's keepin me above the water
Fuck a bitch, get rich and live the life of a baller
Cos a broke bitch ain't nuttin but a downfall
Unless she cement her money and her mind, y'all
And wit straight-laced game is how ya take control
I been practisin the shit since twelve years old

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Lunasicc]

One foot in the grave and eleven inches insane
Psychotic nigga named Lunasicc, squattin out them gold thangs
Slappin these bitches, y'all can't be laggin on the payroll
Let's get your ass right back to the track before your face get steezo
I'm cold like the winter, get up in your flesh like a splinter
I dash with the cash then mash on the gas, prepare a hog for dinner
Creepin when I'm sleepin, my bitch ya want coasted
By the window, wit an AK ready for niggas wit their gunplay
Cap peelers, drug dealers, I thought you knew
That if you fuck wit one of my niggas then you're fuckin wit the crew
We roll deep like sheep, always strapped wit some heat
Original gangsta, fuck a prankster, ride my nuts like a beat, huh
I'm bout it, bout it, but niggas like you, I doubt it, doubt it
I come thru, drinkin blue lookin bout it, bout it
Ready for the gunplay, move the crowd like we the O-Jays
Blastin like I'm crazy out the Colt wit my .3-80, Mafioso

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: 151]

Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe to Reno
Bitches on the highest floors of the casinos
Butt naked, checkin money by the G stack
As I pose at the crap tables, sippin on yak
I'm just a baller, wit a grip of money-makin hoes
Might catch em fo'-deep in a C-Ville on triple golds
Wit cell phones and pagers as if it's on a grind
So to keep em an X-rated pussy is a goldmine

I'm on a major mission to increase my stacks to the highest climax
I'm wrapped up in my safe and G-pacts
Crackin like green weed sacks, for slangin, for danglin
Youngstas wit their pants hangin, gangbangin, .45 stangin
Ain't no tamin, aimin, accurate, we hit em off and slid em off
They get off in the Valley, immaculately, sippin rally's
Winners are stackin chips up like alleys
From Seattle to Cali, the North of Valley, nigga

[Chorus]

Bitch!

Mo' murder, mo' murder

A body fulla tack 2's, battlescars from bullet wounds
New clothes, diamond medallions from paid dues
Niggas that ride til they rue with the attitude of
'fuck the world' from tryin to kill us everytime we move
You're perpetratin to be a killer but I know you're fakers
Them jealous cowards killed my nigga 2PAC in Vegas
Vague kind of bullets fired, we're ready to die with open eyes
I be the last man standin when the smoke dies
This world's infested with haters, wannabe players
Player hatin a real player cos he's livin major
No disrespect to you redneck blood-suckin pigs
If a nigga die, just give my cash to my wife and kids
But what you thought makes the world go round
I got an ese in the East Bay ballin a hundred pounds
Push a 600 rag drop E-12
Dump a 100-round clip in ya, ask about my mail

[Chorus:]

I try to keep my focus, on survivin and money
Can't let them niggas smoke us, before we unload them talons
Traumatise and hope this is how we leave em when they hit us
With the guts to die, pullin the trigger til my casket drops
[repeat]

Them player haters wanna blast me up like they did 'Pac
But I don't give a fuck I'm a ride til my casket drop
It don't stop until you sucker niggas drippin jelly
Pumpin slugs into you motherfuckin pig's belly
I'm full of indica weed laced with heroin
Call it Kryptonite-on the dead, I'ma risk tonight
Blast the first motherfucker that steps
Up to my ride, not knowin where my weapon is kept
I shoot in-side their chests, I'ma thug life, I'm crazy
Got my strength rays to make him kiss his babies
Fuckin sucker ass niggas that didn't ??? ???
Hard lies on him and didn't retaliate
Hard then later on "Shit, hey what's happenin?"
We woulda chased them suckers down and capped em
Give a shout to Outlaw Immortalz right
Look me up cos I'm a ride until my casket drops

[Chorus]

Murder, money, power, pistols and warfare
Kill all my black folks and the peckerwoods wouldn't care
Keep my head up, duckin and dodgin from the state pen
Cos fo' sho', ain't no future in goin back again
They got to kill me, fill me up with lead
Let me, die slowly from my boots to my head
As a, big chief I refuse to retreat, I
Rip teeth outta eye then dump heat, why
The PD reach but catch concrete
Never sol-ved, gone off indica and Hennessey
Infrared at my dog, paws locked like pig jaws
With my gun up, punk, I run up on alla y'all
Then I dump, dump dump dump to get the money
Now I stole Rolex diamond, shinin outta sunny
West Coast the spot, servin caine to get the millions
Distributin the game, makes you want to get the billions

[Chorus]

[Verse 1: C-Bo]

My first name is Smith, my last name is Wesson,
But in yo hood I'm known as 357,
Have yo neighborhood punk quick to shoot a man,
An have Clark Kent thinkin that he's superman,
Wit six in the cylinders chambers, I'm the cup of curs that got ya
Feelin like the ultimate banger,
But some fools misuse my abilities, doin drive-by shootin everything
They see,
I'm quick to cap it in yo life if you tempt me,
Playin Russian ruelet but is the cylinder empty,
Fully loaded fool, you shouldn't have been trippin,
Then you wouldn't be holdin yo head in yo hands to keep yo brains from
Drippin,
I'm a lethal weapon registered in everythang,
Used by the police, dope dealers an yo local gang,
I'm the hardest mutha fucka alive, right in front of yo eyes, kill any
Man wit the quickness now who the fuck am I?

[Chorus]

I'm Mr. Tre-five-seven, quick to peel a cap,
I'm yo friend to the end, you know I got yo back,
I'm known to every trigga finga so everytime you squeeze,
I'm kick out so much heat I'm bringin he-man to his knees,
I'm Mr. Tre-five-seven, fool you know me,
I'm the reason why yo punk ass got locked up for that murder bee,
Cuz after all I'm only a gun, an a gun ain't got no love,
Remember that when you fill me up wit them hollow point slugs.

[Verse 2: C-BO]

Mr. Tre-five-seven, I send that ass to heaven,
Quick to murder mutha fuckaz, an quick to pull 211's,
I turn a big bad nigga into a cowardly lion,
An if he's thinkin about jackin, boy I'll keep his ass from tryin,
See I don't give a fuck, pull the trigga an I'll buck,
When you rollin wit tre-five, fool, whoever steps is suicide,
I never been a snitch, but if you do some crazy shit,
You besta have a hankerchief to wipe the finger prints off yo grip,
Cuz if you down I'm down, fool, it ain't no half-steppin,
I'm a leathal weapon, juss point me in his direction,
An ain't no tellin who I'll hit so you niggaz better run,
I'm Mr. Tre-five-seven, that's any kind of killaz gun.

[chorus]

[Verse 3: C-BO]

No one can hang, I'm the downest on this earth,
No regrets, no sorrows, no remorse when I burst,
I hang on the side of your task force an the waist of yo neighborhood
Killaz,
Might catch me up under the seat, or ridin in the lap of yo dope dealaz,
I'm known to robbin banks, jewlery stores, an 7-11's,
Some use me for protection, an some use me for 1-8-7's,
It's best to call the police if you think you see me comin,
But whatever you don't run cuz you might tempt me to start gunnin,
I kill at will, quick to spill guts when I bust,
An when a habit drops, you mutha fuckaz can't touch,
Mo deadlier than a pitbull, when you locked up in my sight,
So stay up outta my path, an beware because I bite.

[chorus]