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south central cartel - i'm a rider lyrics

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[prode’je]
eastside and westside riders
(gangsters)
cartel gang, n-gga
(fo’ life)
what set you from?
“s.c.c.”

[verse 1: prode’je]
gees tryin to move but some n-ggas wanna trip
slide through yo hood bustin hollow-point tips
eastside rider, locs without a doubt fo’ the funk
like the house of pain the fools ‘jump’
makin these fleas cease, n-ggas fleece for the piece
double up on that -ss like five g’s
ease down the cartel road with my n-ggas in a 4
lookin for the busters à la mode
nada, suckin for your f-ckin chin-checkin
swervin through the manchester intersection
next in line for the -ss-whippin – on a dime
the west coast stays on your mind – the line
is thin, i’m in for the win so you lose
original like chuck t shoes
who wanna dis the rider
light a sucker up like the 4th
and leave him burnt toast

[chorus]
busters don’t know but i’m a eastside rider, rider
(and if i catch you trippin, yo -ss is gone)
and n-ggas don’t know that i’m a westside rider, rider
(and if i catch you slippin, yo -ss is gone)
you get your -ss bumped by the eastside rider, rider
(and if i catch you trippin, yo -ss is gone)
and get your -ss f-cked by the westside rider, rider
(and if i catch you slippin, that -ss is gone)

[verse 2: havikk the rhime son]
skatin down the 110, it’s hot as f-ck
khakis on crease, pavements f-cked up my chucks
flossin on the chip motorola, hit the off-ramp bangin
jesse owens park, neighborhood’s out hangin
glock on my hip, n-gga, westside gees
easin through the breeze, spinnin on gold d’s
cavi–ss gangsta, nickel-plate-packer
mark–ss-subtracter, anybody-blaster
i’m bouts to put that -ss in a lynch
marinate that -ss on the curb like a b-tch
rhime son regulatin things like hussein, i’ma getcha
yeah, and let these nine slugs get witcha
dippin on a off-ramp, rhime son ain’t nothin nice
a gangsta down to put that -ss on some ice
i’m posted with the info aimed at your temple
it’s simple for i to throw up westside

[chorus]

[verse 3: young prod]
on a mission dippin, ratatat like that
desert eagle eager to lay yo -ss down flat
for my scratch, knockin n-ggas out like i was michael
mack-10 got n-ggas’ brains blowin in the wind
holler at me rollin in a bucket lookin tacky
on the d-l don’t love em cause n-ggas been tryin to jack me
stackin ends, fetti, a n-gga get ready to roll
park the bucket, f-ck it, n-gga get ready to stroll
walkin up the streets heated, money green gleam in my eye
wanted to low-ride so i tried
to sell cavi but sh-t was too slow
so now i’m lookin for that fo’-do’ lo-lo
slow mo’ west coast rider eastsider
i’ma put it inside ya when i find ya
i’m behind ya and you’re kinda scared
so be prepared, or shake the spot if you’re scared

[chorus]
[cutting up of]
“get yo -ss beat”



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