Bloods & Crips
Bloods & Crips - Shit Ain't Over lyrics
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[GREEN EYES] I'm wearin' my colors: red shirt, red Stars and red flags Throwin' up Inglewood As my bhakis sag Green Eyes the Y-G Gangsta thug And I fill your ass up with tramp 8 slugs On Bloods I gives a fuck about the Crab in the 9-4 And fuck his moms, I smoke that hoe 1-0-4 the hood that I grew up in Born in red and Blood all I be was red And I chose to be a Blood cause I'm a Dog A muthafuckin' rock waller Checkin' out Crab baller So now you know when you roll thru the '4 I place a knife to your throat And blow your life outta window And your ass will never catch Green Eyes, please Captain save a Crab I smoke his ass, laugh And then I stab Back to Inglewood on Crabs I'm straight dumpin' Rest In Peace to A-Bay and Pumpkin' The shit ain't over and nigga that's for real And I gotta lotta more muthafuckin' Crabs to kill [YANK] It's the capital N, capital G, capital B, capital H Littlest C but the biggest K It's them niggas B khakin' G red steady slidin' Fuckin' major bitches in C-K ridin' Glidin' as we roll through the Projects Over 10 years in bitches so a nigga gots a gang of respect So respect the words From the niggas that's in red and black Two Five Line Hustlers straight gangsta macks I get popped from my niggas from the Ace to '4 They'll be fucked - that been tryed to have a gang truce You better hope you have your four leaf clover Blood, the C-K ain't over [LANIAK] Hoo-ridin' on the Westside, a flame Yak again Ridin' with the homies killin' hoes and friends Plus a - flashback To the heart right connected that It's ride back to the 9 block you be You niggas don't realize I'm from the street Hit around the corner with the elementary With the homie from the 'hood So it's all good, we bickin' Got word From travel tickets fadin' bitches, killin' Rickets street slippin' You jacked - oh, you're a snitch Because the bitch smoke crack and I got the next hit Extra clip 32 hollow points to the head Nigga smokin' joints, nigga smokin' Crab Flamed up in the cut, in the house full of lead With the strap in my hand Now my lap or in the stash You know how we do it On the West Side we prove it Hoo-ridin' I'm shootin' Hoo-dyin' not confused them Won't say no names of gang just fuck any Crab thang Is just - Cowards Run In Pack I bust a cap in their brain With the 9 Glock it don't stop, the 9 Blood Y-G B-Dogs killin' Ricks' take the flees Crossin' out the C's [LIL' HAWK & DOGG] It's 4 o'clock on the dot now it's to swoop I hopped in the Boupe finna bust a WOOP WOOP! But no sooner as I hit C-K Century A car full of Crabs tryin' to get with me So I pulls my ride, straight to the side Since I'm strapped - I'm peelin' niggas' caps Punk fools caught the ?? that I stick a Deuce-Deuce Can't fuck wit' a Mac-10, bitch Handle your business, serve 'em proper Crabs can't fuck wit the Crenshaw Mafia I'm the Hawkster, nigga - how did you figure? Red Riding Hood, M and the L is killas niggas That's the muthafuckin' C-M-G's/D-L-B West Side Y-G's, and I'm out for a minute to the soldier And fuck all Crabs nigga, the shit ain't over Well it's me tha nigga Dogg finna take the fuck off With the Caddy red Coupe with the gold knock off I got the 4-5 Glock, Crab drop on the spot Cut-off bhakis with the red ?? socks I finna take you Crab niggas to the old days When me ?? go fast and ?? bay As I daze your ass with this Damu shit I'm the hardest though, the C-K hardest