| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| - | 
|
|||
| 2. |
| - | 
|
|||
|
[Pimp C]
Smoke somethin I just bought me a Coupe Deville, Took out the air bag put in a wood wheel Now all the ATL niggas wanna jack 'cause I'm from Texas, Never seen candy with the fifth on the back I'm comin down the west end, niggas tryin to jack And bust a right Coney Island pop the trunk and started cappin Niggas was happenin put they Burboun to the floor nigga Hard to bust back but I was penetrating they doe Nigga in PA, it's like the wild, wild west Throwin all packed [?] and we all wear vests When the shit pop out, who gon stunt, Nigga ain't shootin me first I fin to pop the trunk [UGK] [Bun B] - These niggas keep talkin like they want the funk [Pimp C] - But niggas love to talk shit I fin to pop the trunk [Bun B] - Runnin off at they dick suckas gettin it crunk [Pimp C] - Nigga I'm high off this weed I fin to pop the trunk [Bun B] - Steady frontin like a man but you show me a punk [Pimp C] - Man I knew he was a bitch I had to pop the trunk [Bun B] - All we really came to do is just smoke some scum [Pimp C] - These niggas steady runnin me hot I'm fin to pop the trunk [Celly Cel] You niggas didn't know that I was outta control Slow yo roll for I put this chopper straight to yo fo Head you better off dead than to f**k around with psycho niggas Don't be trying to plead yo case 'cause I don't even like no niggas In my face, trying to question me about some drama Only answer to two people: God and my mama Far as niggas tryin to put me in the cross, Let em holler at my bitch, Nina Ross hoe house boss I bet you mind somethin in, run and tell a friend [?] on the Gin, I think he said "trippin" once again It ain't no stoppin me, get at me then I'm dumpin on ya, Ridin past yo funeral hangin out the window slumpin on ya You didn't know, they didn't tell you boy you betta listen While I shoot this shit before you put yourself in that position Niggas that know me know I specialize in havin bump You can have the tailway from the shovel so we can pop the trunk [Bun B] - These niggas keep talkin like they want the funk [Pimp C] - Man 'cause his bitch chose me I fin to pop the trunk [Bun B] - Runnin off at they dick suckas gettin it crunk [Pimp C] - 'cause I'm f**kin yo gal I got to pop the trunk [Bun B] - Steady frontin like a man but you show me a punk [Pimp C] - Nigga tried to jack my car I had to pop the trunk [Bun B] - All we really came to do is just smoke some scum [Pimp C] - Smokin at the tittie bar I had to pop the trunk [Bun B] Under Cali's blue skies, smokin on chronicles and chocolate ties Even when we tell the truth, the hoes we lies, Man ain't no disguise, doin ninety week flies, Ain't got no time for middle men and small fries, Only money conversation and big thighs, Let me talk to your boss man, the nigga wit the pies, And back yo ass up and don't act so surprised, When pistols start to cock, hands start to rise, Nobody move too fast I advise, Or you can catch a hot one right between ya eyes, Recognize I done set me sights on the prize, And put lights out with boom fifty bye, bye's, I'm labeling my life off of rap and weed highs, And ask my agent bout my f**kin shoe size., But f**kin wit us ain't wise, We get crunk, we came to pop the trunk What, the trunk [Bun B] - These niggas keep talkin like they want the funk [Pimp C] - I knew he was the police I had to pop the trunk [Bun B] - Runnin off at they dick suckas gettin it crunk [Pimp C] - Man I'm sippin on [?] poppin the trunk [Bun B] - Steady frontin like a man but you show me a punk [Pimp C] - [?][?][?] I had to pop the trunk [Bun B] - All we really came to do is just smoke some scum [Pimp C] - To make it, make it crunk I had to pop the trunk [Pimp C] I know that they some bitches had to pop the trunk California to Texas poppin the trunk UGK and Celly Cel we bout to pop the trunk Sippin on Hennessy [?] I fin to pop the trunk, bitch Smoke somethin, D time, PA, uh, '97 Smoke somethin, Representin money, like Too $hort bitch Huh |
||||||
| 3. |
| - |
|
|||
|
[ VERSE 1 ]
One by one goes the bullets in the clip Put it in yo gat, one in the chamber, now you're ready to start shit Heat comin from the barrel with a cloud of smoke Dead bodies on the ground when these fools get loc'ed It's crazy in the street, pack some heat for a sucker Mobbin through the town tryin to murder muthaf**kas 211's every day, liquor store and bank jobs D boys gettin robbed, niggas get jacked for they mobbs What's a nigga to do, can't survive without a gun Snitches in the street, a nigga livin on the run It's fun but the pen is like smokin sess Locked up on a 187'll make any nigga stress You can wear a vest, it won't stop two to the head Shot you in your face and now your ass is better off dead Talkin shit'll get you smoked quick No need to save a hoe because they can't live without dick So I focus on the mail, Celly Cel Ain't no playa-hatin nigga, I got too much heat to sell Fairy tales I never kick, it's gangsterism in my veins I kicked it with the O.G.'s pickin up on game: Get your money on, f**k a bitch and get ghost And keep one in the chamber for them fools that play you close Them Sick Wid' It niggas keep makin the beat 4 yo azz Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky nigga got some heat 4 yo azz [ CHORUS (2X) ] Some heat 4 yo azz Some heat 4 yo azz Them Sick Wid' It nigga got the beat 4 yo azz Some heat 4 yo azz Some heat 4 yo azz That nigga Celly Cel got some heat 4 yo azz [ VERSE 2 ] Them Sick Wid' It niggas got the beat up comin with some heat Them federal muthaf**kas tryin to get a buck in the streets Every day a nigga wanna test yo skill And playa-hatas hate to see a nigga comin real The H-i-double l-s-i-d-e Down with the P.G., niggas don't wanna see me Act a f**kin fool, shootin up the city Happy on the trigger like my nigga Frank Nitty Let's get into the C thang, Hillside slang It's a Hillside thang from the Hillside, mang Smokin em like a chronic sack, rollin em in a zag Hittin em with the funk and zippin em up in bodybags Everywhere I go fools get to actin crazy Wanna let they nuts hang, thinkin they can fade me So I keep a life-long mug on my face Rollin with some heat, sippin on a straight lace A high speed chase, bank it in the side pocket Po-po's can't f**k with the 350 rocket Under my hood it's all good when I'm on the gas Checkin the rollers and the jackers that try to blast Tricks of the trade already made, gangster got it down Never panic under pressure when it's goin down Droppin a bomb, nigga, mobb beats 4 yo azz Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky nigga got some heat 4 yo azz [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 3 ] Breakin em off somethin proper for the nine-fo' In the do' is some of that heat 4 yo azz, hoe Little hoes and the don't-know's need to know A nigga that flow who ain't comin out the gate slow Pimpin and and pandlin, hoe handlin the whole bit Killers move in silence, nigga, I don't talk shit I see them loudmouth niggas keep gettin dead And the silent ones on 25 to life bids You gotta pack some heat in the street, it's goin down If you ain't down you better move to a square town Niggas talk shit, drink and smoke weed up Hit the county jail straight p.c.-ed up You never know who really down till the funk jump Same one that jump and the finger points at the punk And your crew wasn't down from the get-go Don't you know how that bitch-made nigga shit go? Hollow points get to the point quicker Cause talkin shit full of liquor thinkin that you're sicker Than the next nigga'll get you full of bullet holes Stayin on my toes and I just can't let go Of this mobb shit that I kick 4 yo azz Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky nigga got some heat 4 yo azz [ CHORUS ] |
||||||
| 4. |
| - |
|
|||
| 5. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(feat. Spice-1)
[Celly Cel:] Murder One, Motherfuckrs Call it Redrum Doin niggaz in and let them shells pile up From dumpin on these niggas in my motherfuckin face I breaks em off a taste of that Ciggety Cel and Spice.. [Spice 1:] Gettin' it on like Marvin Gaye, I'll meet you by the motherfuckin dock of the East Bay [blew] Kill em off like this, ba-da-ba-ba-ba-bye, Them slugs couldnt spill me, them niggaz shoulda killed me.. Now I wanna know who they are, When I put some slugs in them niggaz kill em off in they car.. [Celly Cel:] You see, they cant fuck around with niggas whos so quick to blast, So quick to put these slugs up in your ass They be a hundred miles and runnin when they see me comin, Bringin more funk than the pussy on a yeast infected woman So kick the flow, You see a nigga stompin with that 'H' on my back Choppin these fools in half with my Mack [Spice 1:] Mass motherfuckin murder they aint breathin', That niggas wheezin, Hot slugs got him freezin' Coughin and he's soundin like he got a cold, But hes chokin off that Redrum, whole fuckin body numb.. [Chorus:] Redrum leave your body numb, blast dum-da-dum-dum Retalliation is a must where im from.. Redrum leave your body numb blast dum-da-dum-dum Drinkin Redrum cause I'm 187 proof.... [Repeat Chorus] [Spice 1] [Blaaaw] Murder in the first and shit, Beat a nigga dead body with the pistol grip, playa.. Sp-Spice 1 often shoots, kickin knocked out niggas in the head with boots I got my motha fuckin choppa, pop a cap, in your ass cause you cant stop a Psychopathic motherfuckin nut, Snatch all your fuckin guts, Leave your ass in a ditch all opened up.. Kickin' the tales of the niggaz who got crept on, Blow out his fuckin brains, cause i was slept on.. [Celly Cel:] Now I'm posted with a chopper in my coat full of Hennesey, Fixin' to let my 40 spit out thirty-two when I see, These niggas that wanna test a playa swingin' from my nuts, Pull my mighty Mack and let the street sweeper sweep him up.. The only thing I leave behind is casings on the ground, Lookin for the snitches on the block so I can buck em down.. I gets my Clown with every round that I let fly, Trigger happy niggy in the hood, die nigga die Funk for life, when they smoke me that's when I'm done, So take a sip of this Red motherfuckin' Rum.... [Chorus x2] [Celly Cel:] Call me the Undertaker, call me the casket closer, Fillin niggas up with lead like they fill Shwisher's up with doja, At the graveyard countin' the bodies I left in the mud, I break em off, ain't nothin but buckin' till they spittin blood, But niggas dont feel me, They wanna kill me but these fools dont know me, I rolls them like a blunt, fill em with slugs and bury them slowly Infrared beam gleam, he's dead on the scene, Shot in the spleen, Got two in the chest he's off the scene, Its C-Celly Cel and Spice 1 sp-splittin wigs, Its murderin' so some of that Redrum come take a swig. [Blaaaw] [Spice 1:] These motherfuckin nuts if you wanna murder me Harder to kill than your average motherfuckin 'G' Put a cap up in that ass, Nigga with a gat thats quick to blast, Raisin up outta the funkwith a chrome four four and a black ski mask, Killin for the cash, mobbin' that ass, When so many of these gang buckshots shatter my glass, Mashed on the block and I kept on bustin' Gotta let them know I'm not no Midnarc Put it up in Piznark And let my A.K. Biznark Beitchh! Killin off niggas in the diznark You ever seen what a bullet can do to flesh Just call me Messy Marvin, leaves a mess... [Chorus x4] |
||||||
| 6. |
| - |
|
|||
| 7. |
| - |
|
|||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
| 9. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Sittin on the shelf, they got me stuck up in this box
Choppin it up with the homies, havin visions of a glock 17 Niggas on my team can't wait to fill clip up We jumpin out the barrel with my niggas, shootin shit up See under niner ross, black talon, hollow tips flow Aim me at the chest, I'm makin sure that vest don't get no love Ain't even breathin, leave the body shittin like a seagull See I'm illegal, I got pockets like that ? eagle F**kin around with me is danger, I'm talkin shit Tryin to brainwash the trigger when I'm in the chamber Don't give a f**k if it's a accident or on purpose When I'm comin out the chamber, fool it's just inservice Don't get nervous when you see what I do I love to hit the target, and when I'm breakin that skin, ooh Travel through his heart, ricochet off the nearest bone Rip his insides up, shatter his spine, now I'm gone Layin by the body, waitin for the FEDS Swoop me up for evidence, then I'm just some melted led It ain't no thang, got me back where I started In a box, with my homies, waitin for my next target Ha ha ha, the mothaf**kin bullet Shootin up shit everywhere Every city in every state Don't give a f**k about who when the bullet fly The only thought that's on my mind is "die nigga, die" Ha ha ha But what do ya know, looks like I'm 'bout to be purchased again I seen a nigga ask for them black talons and grin It won't be long 'til they let me loose Got me in the clip, drinkin Gin with no f**kin juice It's goin down, I know they ridin on some fools tonight Hit the lights, squeeze the trigger, send me on my flight Don't give a f**k about who I hit when I fly The only thought that's on my mind is "die nigga, die" Women and children and babies, I know it's crazy See I'm a bullet, it's my job, man that shit don't faze me Even the hand that's on the trigger get shot too Wherever the barrel aiming at, that's who I end up smokin fool Don't get it twisted, I got no love for none of y'all Got to dig a tunnel through your head, and watch the body fall Just shoot and I'mma do the rest I love givin young niggas cardiac arrests Bullet-proof niggas, I go up in 'em quickly The ambulance picked him up with shit all in his Dickies Just cock the glock, put your finger on the trigger, pull it And make a mothaf**ka feel the bullet Ha ha ha, yeah Another victim of these mothaf**kin bullets Once we pull the trigger, don't get nervous 'cause it's instant mothaf**kin service Ha ha ha, yeah Breakin fools off every-mothaf**kin-day Ha ha ha Up out the chamber, it's that sneaky mothaf**ka creepin You heard a shot but didn't know until the blood was leakin Up out your chest, you seen your flesh was a bloody mess Dropped down on your knees, and ran outta breath Sentanced to your death Got hit by the wig splittin, shirt rippin, pistol wippin nigga Catchin 'em slippin when they set trippin Dippin and dabbin, you niggas know who I am, and Can't be f**kin with them faulty heaters that be jammin I love to fly and when they jam, I can't come out and kick it Just pick a target, point me at it and see how quick I hit it Droppin bodies by the dozens, in and out your cousins I'm burnin niggas like a oven, givin up no lovin ? with my dogs, ridin in a 50 round clip Ready to make the hit, talkin long shit, bitch Hit the floor before I hit the door and split ya with some heat Take your head and leave your body in the street As I creep, up on my next mothaf**kin victim Sweep him off his feet, pull the trigger, let me sick him Hit him high, hit him low, you know how it go Put your finger on the trigger, pull it, the mothaf**kin bullet Ha ha ha, the mothaf**kin bullet Mobbin through your hood and takin head Showin no mothaf**kin remorse We don't give a f**k about you The bullet, ha ha ha Sprayin up shit everywhere we go Don't give a f**k, layin men 6 feet on the regular Ha ha ha |
||||||
| 10. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(feat. C-Bo)
[x4] Eye for an eye [eye for an eye] Ride or you die [ride or you die] [Celly Cel] Won't leave the house unless I'm strapped up I might get backed up in the traffic Niggas is dumping on me when I got my zapper Creeping up on me And I got one hand on the wheel One hand on the steel Trying to break a nigga for skrill And I'm ridin' wit sharp shootin' skills Funk season, whatever the reason I'm dealing wit drama Send me one of them mangie ass niggas Runnin' home, cryin' to Mama So I kick the door to eliminate the whole situation Fuckin' wit me me will ended up Having his family eraseded Face it, no charges leaving the body behind until You better respect game Bow down when real niggas bail through yo hood But won't be caught up in a twist Flash on us unless you end up sleeping wit the fish Seamin' shoes, lady singing the blues, them sad ballads Fried chicken, collad greens, and potato salads Surrounded them by [?] of family members cryin' Eye for an eye' you ride or you die [Chorus x4] Eye for an eye You ride or you die ride or you die Niggas get at cha and run back at them But let them bullets fly [C-Bo] He got the Mac One-O And moved nice on the piggies Hit 'em up and buck And leave them struck when I'm tipsy Ain't no love for the true thugs That die for this shit Wit 150 round drum ride for this shit Fuck the hard hats end locs, pass the fo fo And watch me smoke them hoes Like the last hit of indo, and fo' sho I smash and blast, nigga, when I'm provoked With a doe of platinum coke I holds down a fort [Celly Cel] Why you smiling for These niggas playing games on the street That's where they meet the heat They sweep they ass up off of they feet This ain't no fairy tale You fuckin' with Cel Hit the scenes wit machines If you want my team It ain't no in between Seventeen through your temple When your crossing the realest niggas To spit this killa shit on the mic And make the world feel us Hit 'em wit rounds [?] [?] of hollows then we follow Niggas to they spine And chop they ass up Wit fully-auto's [Chorus x4] [C-Bo] I ain't no actor bitch My life is worser than the movies For real though, from steel toes to my uzi Pushin' Impala S.S.'s Benz, Beamers, to Lamborginis And chase my strip down wit X.O., Henn, and Remi Rolex on my wrist Hundred dollar bill's crisp I pull the blunt from my lip Then the 4-5 from my hip and spit The incredible medical or hard core The deadliest medacine gas ever set off in a war Westcoast's the spot Where we lock our million dollar doors Survival in hell, packing heat Ducking from them I'm just a thug nigga Step on your street and draw my heat And then I plug niggas I be a G from the G.B.C. That's why I mug niggas Don't flag I just sag and carry a mag And get off in the snitches asses You a bitch but still ride or die Screaming out the block Bitch I'll have you die wit doc [echoes out] [Chorus x4] [echoes] Bullets fly |
||||||
| 11. |
| - |
|
|||
| 12. |
| - |
|
|||
| 13. |
| - |
|
|||
| 14. |
| - |
|
|||
|
