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spice 1 – east bay gangster (reggae) lyrics

verse 1:

welcome to the ghetto and this is the place young n-gg-s be throwin
they rocks up in my face
my homey g be yellin yo this like a holdup im pullin my gat to make
a m-th- f-cka fold up
in my jag on my phone talkin business mac 10 to my dome yo what is this
im tellin him drop it yo lets box and we can go a round he dropped
his gat i picked it up and blew his -ss down
i know its scandalous but a simple f-ckin dirty fact, id rather hear
my uzi rat-a-ta-ta-tat-tat
its for protection not to kill or break a n-gg-s bones, back to the
story, heres the story b the story on
his guts were scattered he was splattered up against the wall, my homey
g was on my phone buggin off my call
i tried to smash but im lookin at some high beams into the eyes of
some m-th- f-ckin dope fiend
he seen me shoot him so i shot him blew his -ss off , i shot my uzi up
in the air and then i smashed off
im rollin thicker than a milkshake, i like to eat crab but i prefer
steak
i aint no joke m-th- f-cka so dont play yourself, i flip you over fry
your -ss like a patty melt
and if you ever disrespect me ima bank ya, so say what up to the
m-th- f-ckin east bay gangsta

meneme forgot to use my nine cuz 5-0 bombed the ak, the 187 posse
robbed the bank in a way. legal or illegal its the way of the bay. the
government keep the profit of cocaine in a way. me shootin up me
shootin up if he dont give me my pay the n-gg-s up on the block send
for me every day. a thousand everyday will keep the 5-0 away. just
call me east bay g-a-n-g-s-t-a

verse 2:

looked in my mirror cose range right behind me, tinted windows up in
the benz 190
i aint no dummy knew right off hes tryin to kill me, if i dont smash
full of buckshot he will fill me
hangin out the car shots scatter windows shatter trouble, ill shoot
him up bathed in his blood like mr bubble
187 did i do it with an ak, another day a n-gg- dead up in the
alleyway
why did i do it, its my pistol and i packed it, i think they need to
lock my -ss up in a straightjacket
so all you suckas listen close to this warnin, while i get into your
-ss like charmin
funky sh-t that so dope so open your mouth up, you ever shuck me ima
blow your f-ckin house up
and if youever disrespect me ima bank ya, so say what up to the m-th-
f-ckin eastbay gangsta

gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta, gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta kickin the funky
gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gi gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta(???) g-nut
because hes down with the fac, lynch m-th- f-ckas when were coolin
the block. the x the l the a the r-g-e, the murder fac 187 posse. the
e-a-ski is with 187, the cmt is with 187

verse 3:

now as im maxin in this m-th- f-ckin jail cell, with nuthin but dried
up funk to smell
i thinkin about the times that i ganked fools and why im coolin in
these f-cked up county blues
i ve murder m-th- f-ckas singular and in a pair, and in the morning
ill be getting the electric chair
but do i care, yo i could give a f-ck less, the cia, fbi got it in the
chest
tappin my phone calls, wires hidden in my walls, i had the money flowin
smooth like niagara falls
the glory got so im considered a murderous criminal, because my bullet
ate his -ss like a cannibal
before i chopped him with ak i made him say his grace, and then i
emptied the clip off up in his f-ckin face
his partner callin for backup as i was breakin out, n-gg- refused to
die, thats what i heard him shout
i hit the corner with quickness because i aint the one, to feel the
f-ckin blast of a shotgun
and when they fry my -ss, im goin straight h-ll, thats why im kickin
you tales of a jail cell
and if you ever disrespect me ima bank ya, so say what up to the m-th-
f-ckin eastbay gangsta

dja mon, me gonna kick the funky gangsta sh-t mon, me kickin the funky
gangsta. the gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta,
gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da-gi-gi-da gangsta
dja mon, mida me got e-a-ski in the house mon, me got me dj xtra large
mon, we got cmt in the m-th- f-ckin house, dja mon we got (????) check
it out!

verse 4:

me pullin out me glock mon to settle the ghetto job me kickin the funky
reggae kickin the funky rasta
many people that i be meeting be calling me killa gangsta then shoot up
your b-tch and kick back and smoke a blunt in the car
me f-ckin with dank me f-ckin with dank its s-p-i-c-e 1 me buckin em
down me buckin em down shootin lead in his lung
me kickin the funky gangsta sh-t to get the b-tch sprung, the 187
faculty b-tch so f-ck the
(??

- spice 1 lyrics

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