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south central cartel productions - sowhatusayin' lyrics

[havoc]
it’s a motherf-ckin shame
everytime i look at the godd-mn news
or read a motherf-ckin paper
some motherf-ckin b-tch or n-gga tryin to dis gangsta rap
but um, check this sh-t out
gangsta rap is here to motherf-ckin stay
all you hoes and b-tches out there tryin to put a bag on this sh-t
this sh-t is here to motherf-ckin stay

[havoc]
bailin up outta the cut, i’m breakin em off for this 95 g thang
jumpin up outta that mustang, gonna let these nuts hang
cannibalistic flow sn-tching your neck off
grabin a f-cking tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off
morgify a n-gga with the quickness, p-ssin on brain sites
magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light
we blow motherf-ckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb sh-t
glock c-cked on your block, ready to rock it all time b-tch
i sack, scc be that cl1ck, treach and hav
felony, prod, h-a-v the oc, you can’t see me
pump pump that havoc’ll have it crazy motherf-cka
bewitched and brain dead
leaving you headless motherf-cka

[verse 2: jayo felony]
the original from the block, ready to pop and drop
glock on c-ck, felony’s the locest as i focus like a mug shot
hot like rocks, nah f-ck that, like boiling lava
i’m wicked, sit back and kick it, as i saliva
how i took in your eyeball, i call all shots for the gnc
n-gga close your eyes cause you ain’t seeing me
five eight, seven fifteen
bullet loco still
p-ssin in a cup and i’m not givin a f-ck
it’s on, f-ck oliver stone, he made colors
getting paid off g-ngb-ngin, i want my money motherf-cka
i’m a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off
housing with a hundred thousand, ready to let em
go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option
now r-a-p gon’ put me up like adoption
i’m shoppin’ for brains and thangs, so marks jet
i’m addictive, like double nicotine in cigarettes
let’s take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?
i met my f-ckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke
p-ss me the rap on the track and bullet loc gon come sick
cuz at the end of the world there’s gon be gangstas
c-ckroaches, and sherm sticks

[bridge: prodeje]
yeah, headbangas in the house yo
you playa hatas can’t stop this gangsta sh-t
you know what i’m sayin? haha

[hook]
step up, step off punk -ss n-ggas
i flow real soft
soft as medicated cotton
cause i put my foot up your -ss before you p-ss gas
or even before you’re thinking bout farting
so what you saying? so what you saying?
i’m lettin my gat bust
you bustas and you marks know i just don’t trust

[verse 3: prodeje]
back on that flow, don’t you know
it’s that prod from that sqaud
kicking up in that dust as i bust as i mob
metamorphosize from that bg to og
all i see is g’s but you bustas can’t see me
smokin motherf-ckas so they bodies are cold
i’m kickin up on your -ss till you crumble and fold
i’m on the creeps on them vouges
droppin 6 to them 4’s
makin records, going gold
that’s my story in vouge
still try to break me but you’re broke
as i spoke, loc
suckas hate the gunsmoke
act i peel your cap like a cantaloupe
you think it’s settled when we knuckle up
i got insane like saddam and wreck your posse with my finger f-ck

[verse 4: young prod?]
five four three two um
here it comes, one more time
pistol whip dump when i’m packin up mine
y’all don’t wanna do nothin, i’ma keep on bustin
(….?….)
g’s need to ease on back or catch a cap in they knapsack
i sprayed your -ss with a gauge and leave you dazed for days
so why must you drive my g flow
i swallow your -ss up like cujo
and i got em, hollow point for the gaffle
seventeen (?) in your -ss like a raffle
so respect me, the young p-r-o-d
i be that n-gga that k!ll you for nineteen ninety g

[verse 5: mc eiht]
i takes two to your jaw motherf-cka you slip
i take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip
n-gga
how’d you figga like a b-tch i let you get away
westside, cpt g’s that don’t play
i throws that cpt up, blaze up the blunt
then i steps back and sits down my f-ckin’ cup
my n-gga bird got my back when we square off
toe-to-toe, don’t ya know surprise here comes the left blow
you get the steel toed boot, to your chin
you can’t win, oops it splits out your front tooth
now you squirm like a worm in the dirt
you get hurt motherf-cker cause we puts in much work
you look up to see the barrel of my f-ckin’ strap, playa
eiht hype best to get ready for a long night
i hit your block cause i don’t care
let the glock go tick tock and i hit you what with, geah

[hook]

[verse 6: treach]
i heard n-ggas had beef with scc
and he was headed for the airport
landed -ss branded way up north
from ill town eiht called me, said leaving with tech n9ne releases
torches porched and p-ss out the pieces
n-gga wasn’t witty nor f-ckin worthy
cause he had beef with ant banks, boss, spice 1, they tried to hide in jersey
that was the wrong f-ckin move, the wrong alley
to think the murder squad only had connections in cali
yes, with the murder
i said it flex
west coast to east coast quicker than federal express
cause we strike and we don’t lack for the wack
the t to the r to the e to the a to the c to the h is back!

[verse 7: sh’k!lla]
break yoself, it’s sh’k!lla, make way while i spray
murder squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay
nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop
while those who rank high in might ride on top
retaliation a must when i bust or blast
retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask
can’t stop me, i’m sick and i gives a f-ck
see a n-gga slippin’, aim my sh-t then i bust
break yourself, once again it’s on
i’m taking all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one
murder squad, gangsta made beat be the sh-t
murder squad, gangstas for life and we sick

[verse 8: spice 1]
n-ggas playa hate ya but i’m naughty by nature
eigt, you got these n-ggas on the run, so let’s go get the guns
takin they sh-t, gankin they riches, (?) so a n-gga can’t sew
up your spot
i’m leavin your sh-t up in st-tches, gotta decapitate motherf-ckas
can’t see me like ray charles
k!ll em all, stick an ice pick in your sh-t and have you
stabbin up sh-t like oj, shoot em up with the motherf-ckin ak
it’s that n-gga from the east bay
k!llin off sh-t when the gat spray
motherf-ckin hustler, f-ck a busta
high billers we makin a n-gga fry
let’s all die, i murdered up some n-ggas karl kani
with the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!
with the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!

[hook]

- south central cartel productions lyrics

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