Don't front So many claim the fame, but never see the day When lyrically they could even run, in the Triple-A's This here's the major leagues, where big hits are guaranteed The Ken Griffey turbo 850 professional MC One more time that cat Defari With a sting operation so blatant we call it franchise Man sign, independent on some enterprise It's time to shoot straight, innovate, and make the world realize That mics get ripped, and spots get blown I strive to be a Golden State all-time great, like J-Ro I gets burned when the Technics turn on mix shows and mix tapes That you hear when a car turns left on the street You know that shit that make you bounce 'Nuf respect to Rasco and Evidence Yo hold it down on the mound I'm not like Hideo, don't got it Nomo I'm more like Randy Johnson, guaranteed heat for sure
Yo this that where the big hits are guaranteed This ain't no minor league affair this here the major leagues You in the batter's box ready for combat (what?) But when you step up to the plate better bring it fat
I throw spitballs and sliders, and hit batters with attitude The signal's in, and my catcher's 'Fari Herut I got to risin on the mound, talkin at pen-point Retire the side, put on a jacket, ice my joints And body parts, world-wide, Evidence is known Have you fallin out the batter's box when curves are thrown Precise angles, I disect the strategy, no cost And just 'cause I choose to wander don't mean I'm lost I got the button-up jersrey, Dilated written in cursive I spill my heart to wax and put the in the open Three men against nine players, yo, that shit's unheard of Plus my eyes are open in takin' folks One cat got on base but he didn't learn his lesson I faked to first and picked him off at second Patience is a virtue, yo he couldn't understand That cat's out, time waits for no man Bust it
Don't front This where the big hits are guaranteed This ain't no minor league affair this here the major leagues You in the batter's box ready for combat (what?) But when you step up to the plate
It be the large caliber rhyme Ask yourself why try Microphone slash Rasco Defari Evidence, rhymes that set the precedence Straight out the box, MCs to bobby sox Major league, set to intrigue you small fee Nothin' to the game, we doused them small flames Take names Head for the fence, we track prints Track down the scent, then fold your whole tent Stay bent The illest on rhymes at all times Call your bullpen, Rasco just pulled into the lot Be strikin em out with one shot While your pitch be hittin the plate at one spot Down the pipe The major lieutenant that earn stripes Bet strap in, cadet to captain Stand up, better yet, put them hands up And watch the triple threat come fuck them plans up Smack niggas, with lyrical gems that sayin hymns Niggas still rappin 'bout clothes and car rims Man debted But dishin that corn, you get spreaded We runnin on supreme, you runnin on unleaded Couldn't match, you out the line-up, you been scratched Sittin on the bench, not feelin you one pinch, in the trench We loadin the guns to stack funds Went from stackin ones to stackin them one-huns Scored runs The hotter the bat, the more fat It's Dilated, Ras, 'Fari, we bust back Like that, like that, like that, like that Like that y'all, like that, check it
Yo this that where the big hits are guaranteed This ain't no minor league affair this here the major leagues You in the batter's box ready for combat (what?) But when you step up to the plate better bring it fat Don't front
Some L.A. Niggaz featuring Alvin Joiner,Defari,King T,Knoc-Turn'Al,Kokane,Mc Ren,Time Bomb,Xzibit작곡:Alvin Joyner,Andre R. Young,Brian Bailey,D. Johnson,Dr. Dre,Duane Johnson,Marquese D. Holder,Marquis Holder,R. Harbor,R. Mcbride,Roger Mcbride,Royal Rosheam Harbor
Yeah nigga MC Ren up in this mother fucker West West y'all Yeah L A niggaz L A niggaz rule the world nigga Y'all niggaz gotta recognize yaknahmsayin Niggaz don't wanna peep game yaknahmsayin But this shit come all the way back around here My nigga Dre droppin heat box on y'all bitchass Yaknahmsayin You gotta recognize L A niggaz connected all over he motherfuckin world nigga Recognize this Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag Backpack full of cans plus a four four mag G'd from the feet up Blued up from the sewer's how I grew up Loc'n smokin and drinkin til we threw up threw up At Leimert Park taggin hittin fools up Ditchin my class just to fuck yo' school up You don't wanna blast nigga tuck yo' tool up But don't sleep y'all niggaz quick to shoot you Now there's another motherfucker with no future But Time Bomb much smoother when I manuever dope like Cuba Got em jumpin King T starts speakin indecipherable I'm comin Straight Outta Compton with a loose cannon Smoke big green call it Bruce Banner Watch your manners at last another blast from the top notch From way back with the pop rocks I pop lock witcha Picture this Dr Dre twistin wit Tha Liks and Hittman bought a fix Don't trip it's a Time Bomb in this bitch Here it tick tick tick tick BOOM Wait a minute it's on I tell it like a true mackadelic Weed and cocaine sold seperate check it From sundown to sunup clown done run up The Aftermath'll be two in your gut nigga what We roll deep smoke on weed drink and pack heat Requirements for survival each day in L A It don't stop we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops Analyze why we act this way in L A Gimme that mic fool it's a West coast jack move They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do cock me back Bust caps for my max crew at Fairfax who used to wear Air Max shoes that's true But I grew up where niggaz jack you harass you Blast you for that set you claim where you from Mash on you for your turkish chain CK B K Blued up or flame I ran wit a gang I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's My pants hang below my waistline I look humble wanna rumble yeah yeah I bang though like Vince Carter from the baseline don't waste my time Fuck a scrap in killa Cali AK's and 9's One time's sunshines and fine ass bitches Hawaiian thai drive by six fo's on switches I was raised in the hood called WHAT THE DIF' Where the brothers in the hood refused to go Hollywood Slugs for the fuck of it Anybody hatin on us can suck a dick If I catch you touchin mine you catch a flatline dead on the floor Better than yours drivin away gettin head from a whore It's AvireX to the Z Fuckin with me might get you banned from TV cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time Multiply we don't die the streets don't lie What so neither do I I'm bad for your health like puttin a pistol up to your face and blastin yourself Five in the mornin burglars at my do Glock forty five in my dresser drawer Let em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll Roll with niggaz who by fifths by the fo and bruise by the case SLAP YOU in the face with the bass Dr Dre laced Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings Haters fold the style but can't find no openings We roll deep smoke on weed drink and pack heat Requirements for survival each day in L A It don't stop we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops Analyze why we act this way in L A
That's how we ride That's how we ride That's how we ride That's how we ride
