seagram – it don’t stop lyrics
[verse 1: seagram]
cl1ck, cl1ck, boom
on your mothaf-ckin’ -ss, punk
it’s that n-gga named seag bringin’ funk
straight from the o to the a to the k to the l to the a to n to the d
(b-tch!)
s.n.v. is a hood that i stroll through
talkin’ that punk sh-t, n-gga, i done told you
you can’t f-ck with a real loc gee
you n-ggas don’t know me
and f-ck your dead homie
and i can give a f-ck about the sh-t that you stress
i’m handlin’ more mail than ups
so you can jump up
and pump up your mothaf-ckin’ reeboks
i can’t be faded not even with some clorex
i’m funky like sweat socks
funky like stink
c-ck a hundred dee on that deal block
when you see me in the benz
jealous n-ggas dont be talkin’
i ain’t sidin’ on you, tricks
i’m just flossin’
so be aware of the late nite stranger
with 49 in the clip and one in the chamber
[verse2: gangsta p]
mothaf-ckas want the rocks? well, i got’em
steppin’ on the block
and never leave home without’em
slangin’ on the mothaf-ckin’ seminary street
now i’m known to be a gee cause a n-gga’s 23
step broke and get broke off some proper
my lil homie ken
pulled a trigga of a chopper, n-gga
lets get ghost in the bucket
c-ck the steel, f-ck the police
cause n-ggas is real
comin’ from the mothaf-ckin’ sixties
known to pull a trigga
till the clip’s on empty
stranded in the jungles of the east oaktown
come through but i still slang my cola bro
ice creams, so won’t you come and get it?
n-ggas try to jack get sprayed and be finished
lil gangsta p, s.n.v
till i die, layin’ dead six feet deep
[verse 3: seagram]
4-deep in a bucket
rollin’ with some convicts, east side lunatics
doin’ sh-t, stack some dough, slap a hoe
or jack a foe with my mac-1-0
straight from oakland cali
slangin’ birds in the alley
high performances on rallies
f-ck the police precinct
and a kitchen sink
they try to make us stink
i got k!lla instinct
they got me heated
so they gettin’ treated
with this medication
ak’s sprayin’ with no hesitation
ain’t no love for them mothaf-ckin’ rednecks
cause in the ghetto shootin’ cops is a re-flex
as we swing low in the cheriot
shoot the cop, take the gat, then bury it
caught up in the ways of the east side
ain’t no peace ride, the decease ride
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