Lyrics
Oh shit, yeah
Say, where you headin' man?
You motherfuckers ain't going nowhere, man
Ayy, you know I'm just tryna to do my thing, man
Oh shit, yeah ('64 Impala)
Well, we ain't tryna hurt nobody man, we just (Lord)
You might just catch us dippin' though
Say, where you goin', man?
My God, say

You can catch me rollin' down Crenshaw (Crenshaw)
Is that a motherfuckin' Impala? (Bitch, yeah)
Magazine on my lap, I'm rollin' Indo (Indo)
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs

Parked at the light, give a fuck about a bitch nigga
Only nigga worth six figures that still click triggers
On my way to LAX, fuck the freeway
Ridin' through South Central in the 'Wood like I should
But I'm a Compton nigga, west side monster, nigga
You should know by now, I fuck with all kinds of niggas
Call Big U and we gon' see 'bout that vagina in you
You don't bang, huh? Yeah, that's that out-of-towner in you
My niggas eat late night, Mel's Diner menu
You a shooter? Better have that North Carolina in you
I had wolves in all kind of venues
Dubs show I let the snub show
Shall I continue?
Fuckin' niggas up like it's '05
Like Dre just listened to my whole demo and cosigned
Talkin' out your neck, get you buried in no time
I heard you niggas looking for me, Blood

You can me catch rollin' down Crenshaw (Crenshaw)
Is that a motherfuckin' Impala? (Bitch, yeah)
Magazine on my lap, I'm rollin' Indo (Indo)
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs

Nip be where the Crips be
Skeme be where the Bloods be
Nigga, I'm with the shit, give a fuck if niggas Cuz me
Say the wrong thing, wrong time, get a Blood beef
Same color rag, still laying where the subs be
Nah, fuck that nigga
I'll have a prostitute open the trunk and cut that nigga
I'll have a couple crooked cops come and touch that nigga
Then get a bully in the pen to come and fuck that nigga
Life is crazy, huh? Yeah, my life is crazy
Don't let Calabasas fool you, I'll kill you, baby
Bury you in my backyard, shit I'm sittin' on five acres
You wanna go to war? I got the paper
Nigga wanna fade? I got the taper
Nigga wanna shoot? I got the laser
Any bitch that wanna fuck, I gotta tape it
And I don't put no tints on my whip
One strap, full clip, nigga

You can catch me rollin' down Crenshaw (Crenshaw)
Is that a motherfuckin' Impala? (Bitch, yeah)
Magazine on my lap, I'm rollin' Indo (Indo)
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs, watch us throw 'em out the window
Gang signs

Bullets comin' through the windows and the walls
That's on the set, all my niggas on call
Don't pray for me, pray for them niggas
Menace to society, I'm like Lorenz, nigga
I want the rims, nigga, and your gold chain
Don't blame me, blame 80s and cocaine
I want the rims, nigga, and your gold chain
Don't blame me, blame 80s and cocaine

Ayo, I wake up, put on chronic like bitches' makeup
Kush like Nicki and Meek, it's hard to breakup
.38 tucked, take a piss and eat my breakfast
Six bitches at my kitchen table ass naked
I got more bitches than Hugh Heff, nigga, I'm reckless
Iced out Playboy pendant hangin' from my necklace
Used to take a brick, chop that bitch up in sections
Pack it in the car like it's Mexican, no flexin'
It's that whip work, chop that, sell it out, we cop that
On Wimbleton and Brazil with my Impala with the top back
Where my nigga Top at?
Remember them days before you and Rock brought Watts back?
We was in Stevenson Village in front your crib, nigga
Leanin' like a top hat
Ordering Tommy burgers with everything
Cop back, my Glock fat, Nina Ross, Akon, black
Bullets pop up out of nowhere like State Farm, blat

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Fredrick Nassar, Jayceon Terrell Taylor




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